


All Unaware

by Axxor



Category: Worm - Wildbow
Genre: Anal Sex, Bathroom Sex, F/M, First Time, Gangbang, Multi, Oral Sex, Rape/Non-con Elements, Semi-Public Sex, Threesome - F/M/M, Vaginal Sex
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-02-17
Updated: 2015-08-15
Packaged: 2018-03-13 09:28:26
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Underage
Chapters: 10
Words: 39,208
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3376448
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Axxor/pseuds/Axxor
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>In this Worm AU, Brian Laborn has triggered with the Stranger power that his sister Aisha gets in canon.  As a young man with sexual needs, he goes to Winslow to get his rocks off.  There, he meets a teenage girl called Taylor Hebert ...</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Taylor

Brian strolled in through the front doors of Winslow, his hands in his pockets and his bag over his shoulder. He didn't really want to be here - it was definitely the bottom of the heap, as far as quality went. However, this also meant that it got the leavings of all the other schools, and was thus twice as big as the nearest competitor. Its fees were considerably cheaper, but it made up for that with quantity over quality.  
  
Unfortunately, that also applied to the academic standard, or so he understood.  
  
However, he wasn't there for the brains of its students. He was after something else.  
  
His trouble was simple; he was a Stranger.  
  
Unless he concentrated, people forgot his very existence. Even if he was standing in front of them, they literally forgot he was there, absently stepping around him to get where they wanted to go. He could stand in the middle of a crowded street, and people would flow around him without even knowing they were doing it. So on some unconscious level, they acknowledged him and reacted to his presence, but that knowledge never reached the conscious level.  
  
Which didn't seem to be much of a problem, at first glance. When money was tight, he had taken to stealing to support Aisha. He had noted that cameras had not problem with picking him up, but a simple balaclava served to protect his identity while he reached over to help himself from the cash drawer, with the attendant standing right there. A quick stroll out of camera view, a change of jacket, and he was anonymous.  
  
It made him feel slightly dirty, but he rationalised it by telling himself that Aisha needed him, needed his support. His mother was the very definition of a crack whore, and he had no greater aim than keeping Aisha out of her clutches, and preventing her from turning his sister on to the same path.  
  
Unfortunately, there were other needs that he had from time to time. He was young, not yet eighteen, and teenage hormones were as yet raging through his system. But here was where the real problem kicked in. If he were to get aroused, as he had with several girlfriends, then his control began to slip, and all too often, he would find the girl absently getting out of bed and putting her clothes back on, or on one occasion, simply going to sleep.  
  
Just going ahead, he knew, would lead to trouble. He could not chance anyone else finding out his powers.  
  
So he had coldly and logically come to a decision. He would come to Winslow, where security was a joke, and find a girl with whom to have sex. Once he got his rocks off, he would leave. She would never know what had happened.  
  
He tried to keep his mind off of the concept of 'rape', and in the main, succeeded. But it wasn't easy.  
  
It seemed to be lunchtime; kids wandered to and fro in the hallways. A bunch of Empire Eighty-Eight thugs loitered at one intersection, passing remarks back and forth to each other. He took a deep breath, strolled up to the guy who appeared to the leader, and kicked him powerfully in the balls.  
  
The E88 kid screamed in agony and doubled over to the floor; his friends immediately bent over him, asking what was wrong.  
  
"Fuck ... dunno ... cramp or something," groaned the stricken youth. "Feels ... like I was ... kicked ... in the nuts ... fuck ..."  
  
"Christ," muttered another one. "We'd better get him to the nurse. What if it's food poisoning?"  
  
The others agreed, and helped their leader to his feet. Tottering, bent nearly double, he was helped away.  
  
Brian felt a  _little_  better about having come to Winslow.  _Maybe that'll balance out my karma._  
  
He was climbing the steps, looking for a likely prospect, when three girls clattered down past him, laughing and giggling loudly. Brian was struck by the looks of them, especially the redhead. She looked sort of familiar, but he couldn't figure out where from. In any case, she would have made an excellent candidate for his private needs.  
  
Actually, the black girl or the petite brunette would have done just as well. But he had discovered that while he could do certain things with one person without raising an alarm, people usually showed puzzlement if their friends started acting oddly.  
  
But if he caught any of them alone, that would be another thing altogether .  
  
Reaching the third floor, he pushed open the door to the womens' bathrooms and strolled in. If he was going to find a girl alone, it would be here.  
  
And so it turned out. Just as he opened the inner door, he heard a feminine scream of extreme aggravation, and stepped aside as a backpack hit the wall.  
  
A girl stood there, on the skinny side, with a long, serious face and wearing round-lensed glasses. She was also covered in juice and soda, and shaking with rage.  
  
He abruptly understood why the girls had been laughing; the bottles and cans they had used were scattered around on the floor even now.  _Ah. I see now._  
  
Immediately, his mind leapt to the next conclusion.  _She won't be going to class again in a hurry. And if this is a regular thing, no-one will miss her._  
  
Stepping forward, he took her shoulders in his hands. Removing her glasses, he caressed her cheek. She stopped, a puzzled expression crossing her face. He caressed her again, then kissed her gently.  
  
He knew that his close proximity with her would utterly screw with her memory of what was going on. Even though she would experience it, and her body would react accordingly, she would forget utterly how and why such things happened. Her brain was deleting, instant by instant, the fact that there was even someone in the bathroom with her.  
  
The agitation seemed to drain out of her as he caressed her cheeks and kissed her. She began to kiss him back, her lips curving without her conscious guidance. With an internal grin, he wondered how her brain was interpreting this.  
  
He unzipped her hoodie, pushing it back off of her shoulders. Under it, she wore a shapeless t-shirt; the over-garment had taken several large splashes of liquid, but the shirt was fine.  
  
Tilting her head to one side, he kissed down the side of her neck, eliciting a breathless moan of pleasure, hardly even audible. His hands, by now, were cupping and gently squeezing her small breasts through her t-shirt and bra. When he pulled back for a second, she swayed unconsciously toward him. He grinned and kissed her again, slipping her some tongue. She was obviously inexperienced, but her body knew what to do; her lips sucked on his tongue just for a moment.  
  
He was starting to feel more and more turned on; this girl was obviously an introvert, but there was definitely some sexuality bubbling away under there. Undoing her jeans, he began to push them down.  
  
A noise outside alerted him; he grabbed her hoodie and guided her into the stall from which she had come. The door closed behind them, and he locked it, just as two girls entered the bathroom. They gossiped loudly about some 'creepy jerkwad' called Greg, and how "Mr Gladly was totes looking down my front in World Affairs". Brian didn't listen; he pushed the girl's jeans own after pulling her shoes off. She obediently stepped out of the jeans and stood there in the stall with him, clad in t-shirt, bra and panties.  
  
Guiding her arms around him, he kissed her again, this time rubbing his hand between her thighs. She tightened her arms around his neck and kissed him back; her legs spread, and she breathed more heavily, moaning softly as he rubbed at her rapidly-moistening crotch.  
  
Removing her t-shirt was the matter of a moment; the girls left in a clatter of doors closing. He reached around her and undid her bra, then slipped it off to reveal her small breasts. On her, they looked natural; she was skinny enough as it was. Leaning down, he sucked first one nipple and then the other into his mouth. She breathed deeply, her arms folding around his neck again; when he flicked the nipples with his tongue, she moaned loudly and let her head fall back.  
  
Alarmed at that, he wondered if his Stranger power had slipped. But no; when he waved his hand in front of her eyes, she barely reacted.  
  
By now, his penis was rock-hard within his jeans. He slipped out of his own shirt, kissing her again afterward. Her arms went around his neck without his bidding, and she kissed him back with some enthusiasm; it appeared that her unconscious learned some things very quickly.  
  
And then he unbuckled his belt and dropped his jeans. His boxers followed shortly after; his erection sprang out proudly, already smeared with shiny precum. He gently pressed her down, to sit on the toilet seat. A gentle pressure on the sides of her jaw, and her mouth opened a little. He pressed the tip of his cock to her lips.  _Is this going to work, or ...?_  
  
Her lips opened, her eyes still blank, and she began to slowly take him into her mouth. And then she began to lick and suck on him.  
  
She didn't raise her hands this time, but she didn't have to. Her tongue swirled around his glans, cleaning him of his precum, and then she allowed him to press his cock farther into her mouth.  
  
He'd had better blowjobs, but they were from girls who had been fully aware of what was going on, and well experienced into the bargain. At this moment, her body was operating entirely on automatic, and she was doing a damn good job. She choked a little as he pressed his erection all the way into her mouth, his head entering the back of her throat - he groaned, and nearly came, right then - but continued to suck on him gamely.  
  
Holding her head carefully, he gently fucked her mouth, back and forth, in and out, groaning at the sensations that her lips and tongue and teeth were giving him. All too soon, he felt the climax approaching, and tried his best to resist the urge to shove his cock all the way down her throat; that could actually drown her in cum. When he did come, she choked a little, and he pulled out, to spatter his seed over her breasts and belly. Automatically, she swallowed what she'd gotten in her mouth, and sat there, ignoring the white droplets hanging from her chin.  
  
"Oh man, oh man, oh man," he groaned. The relief was enormous. He wanted to sag to his knees, to fall over. But he didn't. There was more he wanted to do.  
  
Standing her up, he stripped her of her panties; that is, her only remaining clothing. Positioning her for the next bit was a little difficult, but he felt that he owed her. Finally, he sat her on the very edge of the toilet seat, and pushed the toilet door open with his butt, so that he could get his head down to the level of her crotch.  
  
And then, he began to eat her out.  
  
He had already noticed that she was skinny; from all appearances she did not shave, but there were only a few sparse strands of pubic hair adorning her mound. Her vaginal slit was relatively small, compared to some girls of his acquaintance; not only was she almost certainly a virgin, but she was gonna be as tight as hell.  
  
Which was why he wanted her as lubricated as he could make her.  
  
She was already rather wet, but as his tongue teased apart her labia, and teased at her clitoris, she grunted. Glancing up, he saw that she had her back arched, and her head had fallen back once more. Grinning, he returned to his task. She began to breathe deeply, moaning louder and louder as he worked at her. Her juices, already in evidence, began to flow in a flood tide as he stroked his tongue up and down between her perineum and clitoris and back. Pressing her legs farther apart - something that took no effort at all - he slid his tongue inside her, something that made her clench up and orgasm loudly.  
  
He capitalised on that, flicking her clit again and again rapidly to keep her going. It worked; she went into a firecracker series of orgasmic frenzy that ended up with her legs locked together behind his head. He kept eating her, his tongue and lips and teeth working at her until she slumped back, panting heavily.  
  
Her obvious arousal had affected him deeply; as he unwound her legs from around his neck and stood up, his cock was once again as hard as tungsten steel. She leaned toward him, lips already opening to receive him once more, and for a moment he was tempted, but he had come here for more than that.  
  
_I bet she's not nearly as responsive as this when she knows what's going on. Wonder if she knows how repressed she really is, underneath?_  
  
Standing her up, he turned them around, and sat on the toilet lid himself. Then he guided her over his lap, and grasped his urgently throbbing erection. With one arm around her buttocks to keep her in place, he rubbed the strongly juicing head of his penis between her slippery-wet vaginal lips. She moaned, and pressed down. He kept the cock in place, as his head slid into her tight, virginal opening. Leaning up, he pulled her head down with his other hand - no longer needed around her buttocks - and kissed her. She responded avidly, wrapping her arms around his neck. And while she was occupied with that, he felt his cock come to rest against her hymen. She twitched; an expression of pain crossed her face.  
  
Taking hold of her hips, he kept kissing her while he pulled gently down upon her. She tried to struggle slightly, tried to pull away, and then he felt the tearing sensation that told him he was through.  
  
"Ah!" she vocalised for the first time, and tears came to her eyes.  
  
He stopped pulling her on to him; kissing her, he caressed her face and breasts, then sucked her nipple into his mouth for good measure. When he started rubbing her clit, trying to ignore the trickle of blood that ran down the length of his cock from her torn hymen, she was already rocking back and forth on him, slowly sliding farther on to his thick shaft.  
  
He continued to caress and kiss her, cupping and squeezing her buttocks in his strong hands. She kept sliding down on to him. He had been correct; the vaginal canal gripping his rampant erection was by far the tightest, slipperiest, sexiest pussy that he'd ever had the good fortune to get his cock inside of.  
  
Finally, her sparse arrangement of pubic hair encountered his own thick mat, and he began to work her up and down on his shaft. She moaned, her head falling back, as he fucked in and out of her. Her vagina clenched around him, over and over again, sending thrills of pleasure rippling through his entire body.  
  
Abruptly, he gathered her in his arms; she still had her arms around his neck, and he cupped one hand under her buttocks and the other around her back. Standing up like that took a little doing, but he was a strong lad; he managed. The door was already unlatched, so he pushed it open and strode across the bathroom to the counter top. Seating her buttocks on the edge of the counter between two washbasins, he leaned her back against the mirrors, grasped her hips, and really went to work on her.  
  
She gasped and moaned as he thrust into her harder and harder. Her nails dug into his back all unaware as she kissed him wildly. He tried to return them with the same urgency as she gave them, but it was difficult. Fucking her standing up like this was a huge turn-on, especially after he shifted his arms up behind her back. Pressed together, her erect nipples rubbing across his chest, he pumped his thick cock deep inside her, over and over and over again. She was still as tight and wet as when he had first entered her; her legs were locked behind his buttocks.  
  
She was cumming now, her moans and gasps and rolled-back eyes making it clear that she was transported to a higher plane of existence. He held on to her tightly, ramming his penis into her slippery depths, feeling the grasping of her vaginal passage as it clenched around him.  
  
And then he came for a second time; lifting her off the bench altogether, he pressed her up against the wall. His erection slid all the way to the hilt inside her, causing her to cry out, her eyes opening wide, unseeing still. And then he began to come, his climax spurting wad after wad of thick semen deep inside her tight young pussy. He kept fucking her, thrusting hard up into her, to her evident pleasure, until his orgasm was well spent and his cock began to soften inside her.  
  
Slowly, he let her down on the counter again. Teasing her legs apart from behind him, he let them fall so that she was sitting normally. Carefully, he examined her vaginal area. There was some reddening, but only a slight evidence of blood from her lost virginity.  
  
Fetching his bag, he set about using the items he had brought along with him. A Plan B pill, introduced with a kiss, slid down her throat easily. He didn't want her getting pregnant. He had brought plenty of wet wipes, in case of mess; however, he had not realised just how much she would need them.  
  
With frequent kisses and caresses, to keep her in the forgetfulness zone, he cleaned her down carefully, first of the evidence of their lovemaking, and then of the liquids with which she had been splashed. Her hoodie was badly stained, but he wiped it down, then rinsed out a good bit of the rest. Wringing it out between his strong hands, then holding it under the hot-air hand dryer - while keeping her close by, continuing to kiss and caress her - served to reduce these to minimal marks.  
  
In the process, she began to caress his body; he found himself becoming aroused all over again. He had heard the bell ring at some point during their strenuous mutual exercise; there would be no interruptions. He lifted her once more on to the counter; she opened her legs automatically. Their bodies met as one, as he slid into her once more. There was no hesitation, no pain, no pulling back; it was like coming home.  
  
She clung to him as he made slow, delicious love to her. He thrust deeply inside her, again and again and again. She was hot, and tight, and wet, and slippery; his eyes nearly crossed at the exquisite sensations. Their lips met; she kissed him, her lips molding to his, her tongue sliding into his mouth as she sucked on his.  
  
After an eternity that passed all too quickly, he felt the climax approaching once more; under his ministrations, she had already been rolling through one orgasm after another for the last few minutes. So when he shoved all the way into her, he felt no regret, no remorse, as he came inside her for the second time that day.  
  
She cried out when he climaxed, clinging tightly to him as she rode out another orgasm of her own. They slumped over the bench, the passion slowly bleeding away.  
  
Eventually, he recovered enough to get her cleaned up again, then he helped her into her clothes. She stood there like a doll, placidly allowing him to dress her; once he had her hoodie zipped up, he leaned in and kissed her gently. He felt her lips curve into a smile under his.  
  
"Well," he told her, even though he knew she would forget his words as soon as she heard them, "that was damn good. I hope you enjoyed yourself as much as I did. And something tells me that you did." He grimaced. "I hope you don't get in too much trouble for missing class."  
  
Leaning in, he kissed her again, tenderly. "Take care. I'll be back."  
  
Turning, he exited the bathroom, his bag over his shoulder.  _That was amazing,_  he told himself.  _I have **got**  to do that again._  
  
And he knew that he would.  
  


<><>

  
Taylor blinked. Just a moment ago, she had been tearingly angry, ready to vent her rage on the world. But now, she was ... calm. Staggering, she leaned for a moment against the counter.  _My god,_  she asked herself. For just a moment, a wave of ... of pleasure had washed through her. It felt like a rapidly-fading memory of something. Taking a step to pick up her bag, she frowned. Between her legs, she felt ... sore. But it was a  _good_  kind of sore. She felt ... fulfilled. As if something wonderful had just happened, that had taken all her cares away. Even her breasts felt good.  
  
"Well," she told herself, "I guess I'd better get cleaned up." And then she looked at herself in the mirror, and blinked.  
  
"Surely I had more of that shit on me than that?"  
  
But no, it was almost all gone. Even her hair was clean, although slightly damp. Her  _glasses_  were clean.  
  
She shook her head, trying to understand it.  _Did I have a mental break, clean myself up while I was out to it?_  
  
She took a deep breath, tried to feel the anger she had been feeling before.  
  
It just wasn't there. She just felt ... content. A warm feeling, deep inside. As if someone loved her, and had told her so.  
  
She smiled.  _I don't know what really happened, but I'll take it._  
  
A glance at her watch showed her that she had missed half the period. A shrug.  _I'll make up some excuse._  
  
The Trio would see her, she knew.  
  
But, with the new strange feeling of fulfilment inside her, she simply didn't care.  
  
Picking up her bag, and tut-tutting over the state of the contents -  _why didn't I clean these too?_  - she left the bathroom, on her way to class.  
  
_Better late than never._


	2. Madison

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Brian decides to come back for seconds. However, he decides to do something different this time ...

Brian opened the door to the classroom and strolled in, fully aware that he went essentially unseen and unheard by all in the room.  
  
The students were gathered in groups, and it didn't take long for him to locate the girl with the delightful pussy, in a group with two no-hopers and one girl. The girl in her group was chatting to the girls in another group, one of whom looked familiar. Brian thought she may have been one of the ones who had clattered past him on the stairs on Friday.  
  
 _Is she bullying this girl?_  
  
Someone addressed his 'friend' as Taylor, and he nodded to himself.  _Now I have a name to go with the pussy and the face._  
  
And then the girl in her group passed a paper to the girl in the other group, the potential bully. And she didn't give it back. Taylor asked for it back, but the bully - Madison - ignored her. So Brian reached down, plucked the paper from Madison's hand, and put it in front of Taylor. Grinning, he stepped back to see what happened.  
  
Madison blinked as she registered that the paper was no longer in her hands. Taylor automatically straightened the pages before she realised that she was holding it once more. A brief look of confusion crossed her face, then smoothed out. Brian had seen this before. Peoples' brains filled in gaps. They didn't realise they didn't remember something.  
  
Before Madison could cause more mischief, Brian leaned over her and unzipped her top and slipped it off her shoulders. Like Taylor on Friday, she did not resist; she could not remember long enough to think about resistance.  
  
Her bra followed; he placed the top in one hand and the bra in the other, then stepped back once more, grinning broadly. She had very nice breasts, a little larger than Taylor's, and she would realise that they were open to the air in three ... two ... one.  
  
Madison shrieked and whipped her arms around to cover her nakedness. Everyone turned to stare at her. The no-hoper who had first handed off the paper to the other girl literally gaped, his jaw dropping.  
  
The teacher turned from another group and stared as well. "Miss Clements!" he snapped. "What is the meaning of this? Put your clothes on at once!"  
  
Madison blushed as deeply as anyone that Brian had ever seen. "I, uh, I don't -" She did not move her hands from in front of her.  
  
After a moment, the teacher pointed at the stock room. "In there. Get dressed. Now."  
  
"Yes, sir!" She got up and scuttled into the room.  
  
Brian followed her in; when she closed the door, he clicked the lock. And then he turned to face her.  
  
The first thing he did was take her bra and top away from her, and drop them on the floor. Then he undid her skirt and dropped it, following it with her panties. Once she was naked apart from her shoes, he lowered her to the floor. He didn't know how long the teacher would take before checking, but it might be a little while.  
  
He kissed Madison, and she responded, but not as avidly as Taylor had. Licking and sucking her nipples got some response; rubbing between her legs elicited the information that she was moist and getting more so by the moment.  
  
He unzipped and produced his already-hard cock. Getting on top of her, he rubbed it up and down between her soft, moist labia. She moaned and pushed upward against him. He rubbed again, causing her to breathe heavily, then he lifted up and pressed the head between her soft moist lips.  
  
He groaned as her vaginal opening expanded to accept him; she was, if anything, tighter than Taylor. Her slippery flesh held, gripped, enveloped him. He pushed, sliding more of his length into her.  
  
She drew her breath in sharply as he penetrated her, but there was no hymen this time. Either she was no virgin, or she had gotten rid of her maidenhead some other way. But this meant that he could push all the way into her without outcry.  
  
That is, if he could  _fit_  all the way into her.  
  
Before he was quite all the way up inside her - and so tight she was, his eyes were crossing - he felt the tip of his penis nudge her cervix.  _End of the road._  
  
So he pulled out slightly, and began to thrust into her. His kisses were returned, and her groans of pleasure were certainly genuine, but she did not respond as avidly, as needfully, as Taylor had on Friday. With Taylor, he was  _engaged_ ; with Madison, he was just fucking.  
  
With her exquisite tightness, and the movements that she was making under him, it didn't take long to reach climax; he rammed into her as far as he could, then came, spurting his hot cum directly into her tender young womb. She had shuddered a couple of times as he was pumping his cock into her, so he guessed that she had reached orgasm.  
  
He found that he didn't even really care about that, as much as he had for Taylor. He pulled out and rolled off of her. Getting a wet wipe out, he cleaned the evidence from between her thighs, and placed her hand there instead. He was just tucking himself away and zipping up, when the door to the stock room rattled.  
  
"Madison!" called the teacher's voice.  
  
She went to reply, looking around dazedly, but Brian dropped to his knees beside her, and kissed her. At the same time, he used her hand to rub at her swollen clitoris, a motion that she carried on by herself.  
  
A key rattled in the lock, and the door opened; Brian stood up, wishing he had a camera. Moments like this are made to be treasured.  
  
"Miss Clements!" exclaimed the teacher, staring open-mouthed at Madison, spread-eagled on the floor of the stock room, one hand on her sopping vagina, the other rubbing her breasts. Brian was impressed; he hadn't made her do that last bit. "What in God's name are you  _doing?_ "  
  
What she was doing was blatantly obvious, especially to the students who crowded around and stared over his shoulder, drawn by his voice.  
  
For the second time that day, Madison shrieked and covered herself.  
  


<><>

  
The class was left to their own devices as Mr Gladly marched Madison to the principal's office. Brian didn't much like the man either, especially given that he had utterly ignored the theft of Taylor's paper.  
  
So he followed along behind them. And as they entered the principal's office, he deftly removed Madison's top, and placed it in Gladly's hand.  
  
The shouting and screaming broke out behind him as he strolled back toward Taylor's classroom.  
  
Being a Stranger was a  _blast._  
  


<><>

  
Class had ended; Mr Gladly had not yet returned, so the students filed out. Taylor picked up her bag, went to follow, but Brian put a hand on her shoulder and stopped her. She did not resist him, simply waiting in place; her brain had told her that she wanted to stay for some reason. And so she stayed.  
  
There was a group of girls forming outside, he saw. He saw the other two of Taylor's tormentors waiting with them.  _So that's the way it is._  
  
This led to a dilemma. If he carried out his original intention of having sex with her on Gladly's desk, they would hear. They knew she was in the classroom, and would investigate if she stayed for any length of time.  
  
 _So._  
  
Taking her arm in his, making sure to grab her bag as well as his, he let them both out of the classroom. Almost immediately, the girls tried to swarm her and herd her toward the corner. But Brian did not want that happening. So with one arm around her shoulders to keep her moving, he shoved the girls out of Taylor's way as gently as he could. The black girl tried to grab her sleeve; he interposed his hand. She looked puzzled, and tried again. Again, he knocked her hand out of the way.  
  
"The fuck?" she asked. "Hebert, you some kind of cape?"  
  
Taylor stopped and faced her. "I only  _wish_ , Sophia," she told the black girl. "Then maybe you and the others would get off my back."  
  
The blonde girl stared; the black girl - Sophia - compressed her lips. "You're  _nothing_ , Hebert," she growled. "And it's time you learned that."  
  
Brian had had enough; as the black girl stepped forward, he kicked across, knocking one foot in front of the other. Sophia tripped over her own feet and performed a spectacular pratfall.  
  
Taylor blinked, but refrained from remark; everyone else was too busy goggling at Sophia, flat on her face.  
  
She walked away; Brian accompanied her.  
  
"This isn't over, Hebert!" yelled Sophia from behind them. "Using cape powers against normals is an offence!"  
  
Taylor hunched her shoulders; Brian was puzzled. He expected at least another "I'm not a cape." But she said nothing.  
  
She seemed to want to go to her next class, but Brian had other ideas. He'd come once inside Madison, but that had been less than totally satisfying. Even before they turned the corner, he was caressing Taylor's body through her clothes.  
  
He didn't feel like guiding her up two flights of stairs, so he opened the door to the nearest empty classroom that he saw. Taylor went in willingly enough, and he locked the door behind them.  
  
When he kissed her, she responded as avidly as she had on Friday. She almost cooperated with him in getting her clothes off; in short order they were both naked. He lifted her up on to the teacher's desk and kissed her; she responded as eagerly as each other time. Then he licked and sucked his way down her body, over her breasts - causing her to gasp and clutch at his head - then farther down. She lay back on the desk and spread her legs as he went to work on her already-wet centre.  
  
With her legs parted and raised, she looked almost unbearably sexy. He licked and slurped at her tight wet slit; she arched her back and groaned as he pleasured her, even though she forgot what was happening, second by second.  
  
He didn't need any manipulation to get hard again; when he stood up, Taylor was a limp puddle on the desk, and he was raring to go. So he lifted her legs up, placed his erection at the warm and willing opening to her vaginal canal, and slid into her.  
  
She cried out as he penetrated deeply into her, but the sound was more pleasure than anything else. With her ankles on his shoulders, he began to stroke into her as hard and fast as he could; she cried out in counterpoint to his thrusts.  
  
If anything, the sex with her was even better the second time around her. Her body recognised what was going on, and responded to it, even as she herself had no idea what was happening. His thick cock slid deep into her slippery wetness, her body welcoming his within her, as he grunted and thrust into her. She cried out in climax, clenching around him, even as he powered into the home straight. His thumb on her clit ensured that she kept cumming, her eyes and mouth wide, as he rammed himself all the way inside her and unleashed his own load, deep inside her belly.  
  
She clutched at him as he slumped over her, breathing hard. He kissed her, and she responded, her tongue seeking his. His hips pumped a few more times, his penis squeezing out a last few spurts of semen into her pussy, before he softened and slid out of her.  
  
As before, he fed her a morning-after pill, and cleaned up the semen leaking out of her. He held her for a few minutes, kissing and caressing her, until she caught her breath. Then he helped her get dressed once more.  
  
Dressed as well, he walked her out of the classroom and then stepped back, letting his influence over her fade away. He had to go and meet the Undersiders, anyway. There was that new prospect they needed to talk about.  
  


<><>

  
Taylor blinked. She had been walking away from Emma and Sophia, and ... now she was standing outside this classroom. And she was late for class. "Dammit," she muttered. "What's happening?"  
  
As she hurried to class, she realised that the feeling was back, the feeling of utter and total contentment. As if something really significant had happened during the lost time. But she had no idea what that might be.  
  
 _I wonder why Sophia tripped. She's usually so graceful._  
  
A shrug.  _I didn't do it. Not my problem._  
  
Dismissing the questions, she hurried toward the class she was late for.


	3. Sophia

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Things get more and more bizarre, as Brian finds that Taylor is actually a cape.

Brian was badly shaken. Taylor, the girl he had been using for sexual relief at Winslow, had turned out to be one and the very same as the bug girl who had helped them out so thoroughly with Lung. He had stood less than arms' length away from her, and she had not realised who he was; of course, he reflected, she didn't even remember having sex, much less the fact that it was with him.  
  
Lisa, on the other hand ... her bullshit power had kicked in almost immediately. Not only did she know what he'd been doing, now she knew who he'd been doing it with. After a single, searing "I know what you did" grin, she had become almost over-solicitous to Taylor.  
  
She had cornered him once Taylor had left.  
  
"You have to tell her," she had insisted.  
  
He had shaken his head. "I can't," he confessed. "If I say anything ... it will destroy any chance we have of getting her to join us."  
  
She bit her lip. "It's the decent thing. Or were you going to keep fucking her once she joined, all unaware?"  
  
He had covered his face with his hands. "Fuck, I don't know. I  _don't fucking know._  I thought it was the perfect solution. Why the fuck did she have to turn out to be a fucking cape?"  
  
She had shaken her head. "Fucking Simurgh, probably. Anyway. You have to tell her. Or I will."  
  
He had waved his hands frantically. "Okay, okay. I'll tell her."  
  
He had no idea  _what_  he'd tell her, or how, but he would tell her. Or Lisa would. And 'Tattletale' was well named; she would spill chapter and verse.  
  
He  _liked_  Taylor. She was a nice girl. He didn't want to hurt her, and he didn't want her to hate him.  
  
And he really, really wanted to have sex with her again.  
  
 _What the fuck do I do?_  
  


<><>

  
He strode into Winslow alongside Taylor. She didn't know he was there, of course. People parted to move around him, all unaware, thus parting for her at the same time. She moved in a tiny bubble, as if a force field surrounded her.  
  
As he walked, he rehearsed what he was going to say to her. "Taylor, I think I really like you, and I've been having sex with you for a couple of days."  _Nah._  "Uh, Taylor, how would you feel about someone who has sex with you but you don't remember it?"  
  
This was not going well.  
  
She joined the crowd of people outside her home room; he had not yet had the chance to pull her aside for a quickie, so he was standing beside her when she saw Sophia. And then Sophia turned and saw her; she made some comment to the girls with her, and came over to Taylor.  
  
As she came up, Brian saw that she was sweaty from track practice. She smelled hot and musky and wild, and his erection jumped dramatically in his pants.  
  
"Surprised you had the nerve to come back to school, Hebert," she sneered.  
  
"Uh, why shouldn't I?" asked Taylor nervously.  
  
"Seeing as you're a  _cape_  and all," Sophia stated loudly. "You've got some sort of bullshit telekinesis or teleport powers. We all saw it, outside Gladly's class yesterday."  
  
Taylor shook her head. "That wasn't me," she insisted. "I didn't do that."  
  
Brian covered his eyes with his hand.  _Fuck. I've gotten her in worse trouble than ever._  
  
"So you say," spat Sophia. "I think I'll go down to Principal Blackwell right now, report a cape using her abilities on normals. Maybe she'll look at Madison's case a little differently after that." She put her hands on her hips and stared challengingly at Taylor. "Unless you want to stop me, Hebert?"  
  
Taylor shook her head helplessly. "You've got it all wrong. I didn't do anything. That wasn't me."  
  
Sophia barked a cruel laugh, and turned away. "See you in Blackwell's office, Hebert."  
  
She strode away, and Taylor watched her go.  
  
Brian, on the other hand, followed her.  
  


<><>

  
As soon as she was around the corner, he had her by the arm and was moving her in a different direction. She tried to keep going toward Principal Blackwell's office, but he was the stronger, and she couldn't actually remember, second by second, what she wanted to do.  
  
Pulling her into what turned out to be the boys' bathrooms, he pushed her up against the wall and lifted her tight t-shirt over her head. She wore a sports bra under it, which he unclipped and eased off of her. Her breasts were firm, shapely, and altogether irresistible. Lowering his mouth to them, he began to suck and lick at her nipples.  
  
He tasted her sweat, her musk, and it only increased his desire. Sucking hard on her nipple, causing her to moan softly in arousal, he bit down; she jolted and squeaked in what sounded like pleasure.  
  
He took her skirt off, and slid her athletics pants down so that she could step out of them. Now that she was naked apart from her track shoes, he also began to disrobe.  
  
Once he was naked, he kissed her. He made it long and lingering, and by the end of it, she was responding to him, making little whimpering sounds in her throat. This was quite possibly because he was also squeezing and pinching her breasts and nipples. The more he did it, the rougher he did it, the more she seemed to like it. Running his hand up and down between her thighs, he noted that she was definitely getting wet.  
  
Easing her to the floor, he began by licking the sweat from the insides of her thighs, then biting them gently. She arched her back and groaned at that, so he did it a lot harder. Her scream echoed from the tiles as she nearly levitated from the floor.  
  
 _Wow. She really gets off on that._  
  
Closer and closer to her hot juicy centre, he licked and nibbled and bit, and the more she moaned and shifted under him, all unaware. Teasingly, he skirted around her actual pussy, continuing up her stomach, making the powerful muscles there quiver and jump. As he began to lick and suck at her breasts once more, she arched her back and moaned once more; he bit down on her nipples, and she moaned even louder.  
  
Licking the sweat off of her neck elicited more reaction, so he bit her there as well; she arched up against him with almost visceral wanting.  
  
His cock was even now rubbing at the entrance to her pussy; he could feel the hot wet slipperiness calling to him. Sophia seemed to like it hard and rough, so he did not spend any more time on preliminaries. Lifting her thighs so that he legs were properly spread and raised, he poised at the entrance to her hot, wet sex, and pushed. Hard.  
  
She bucked and screamed under him as his penis rammed into her. He could not believe how hot and tight and wet she was, and how she was clenching around him. Her arms wrapped around him, and her nails dug into his back. He pulled out, then thrust into her even harder. She arched her back so hard that the only parts of her were her heels and the back of her head; he was literally supported by her body as he rammed all the way to the hilt inside her hot slippery sheath.  
  
Getting a good grip on her shoulders, he began to pump his hips in earnest; she met his every movement, her body like a wild thing. Kissing her, tasting her sweat on her lips, he narrowly escaped losing flesh to her teeth before he learned to kiss her  _hard._  Mashing his lips against hers almost painfully, he elicited a response, even as his hips worked to drive his raging erection ever deeper into her pulsating vaginal canal.  
  
His weight on hers, he ground her into the floor as he fucked her as hard as he was able. His cock was in seventh heaven; she was gripping him so tightly with her muscles that he didn't know if he could pull out of her, even if he wanted to. But he didn't want to.  
  
She continued to rake at his back with her nails as he licked every inch of her that he could reach; the taste of her sweat was a powerful aphrodisiac. His hips pumped almost without his volition, his erection plunging to her very core, over and over again.  
  
And then she began to climax, one firecracker orgasm after another, bodily lifting him off the floor, over and over again. She was not quiet about it either; it was all he could do to hang on as he drove toward his own finishing line.  
  
The convulsive clenching of her tight, hot pussy around him was what drove him over the edge; he forced himself all the way into her and emptied out with a shout that should have been audible right across the school. His cock spurted jet after jet of his boiling seed deep into her, over and over again. He thrust again and again, as she came under him once more, until he was finished, spent. Done.  
  
Not even Taylor had wrung him out like that. He subsided on top of her, then rolled off her as he slid out of her still-twitching pussy. If he could just spend a few moments to catch his breath ...  
  
"I'm sure I heard the noises coming from in here."  
  
His head came up; the voices were almost right outside. Hastily, he gathered up his clothes and stood up.  
  
"Are you certain?" asked another voice. "This is the boys' bathroom." It sounded female. Maybe the principal.  
  
Sophia became aware of her surroundings; she looked around, then down at herself. Brian wasn't sure if she recognised the signs of just having had sex, but she certainly seemed startled.  
  
 _"Fuck!"_  she mouthed, and grabbed at her discarded clothes. Hastily pulling them on, she ducked into a cubicle; the door swung shut just as the bathroom door opened.  
  
It was indeed Principal Blackwell who entered, with the janitor in tow.  
  
"I see no people making noise," she told him suspiciously.  
  
He shrugged. "I heard noises. Sounded like a girl screaming, so I went and got you. That's all I know."  
  
Blackwell snorted, went over to push at a cubicle door. It swung open easily; there was no-one inside. Then the next one. Also empty. The third one was the one in which Sophia was hiding; he didn't interfere.  _This should be interesting._  
  
The door opened; no-one was there. Brian's jaw dropped.  _The **fuck**?_  
  
Blackwell opened another door, and another; they swung shut after she pushed on them. Each cubicle was empty. "Well, unless someone's hiding in the hand towel dispenser, I think you're on the wrong track here, Carl."  
  
"I tell you, I heard something ..." They went out, still arguing.  
  
And then a cubicle door opened - the one  _next_  to where she had entered, and one which had been checked - and Sophia emerged, still clutching most of her clothes.  
  
"Fuck," she muttered out loud. "That was too fucking close." She looked around. "And what the fuck am I doing in the boys' fucking toilets, feeling like I've just had the best fucking sex of my life?" Dabbing between her thighs, she brought up fingers glistening with white liquid. "Fuck. Holy fuck. I  _have_  had sex. What in the living goddamn fuck?"  
  
Brian decided that this was the moment to step in. He gently took the clothes from her, and undid the skirt from around her waist. "How did you wriggle under the divider in that time?" he asked her out loud as he caressed her body. "I didn't even see you do it."  
  
Her eyes glazed over when he kissed her, biting her lip; she pulled back gently, breathing deeply. His hand on her freshly-fucked pussy was wet with her juices; he was tempted to give her a bout of vigorous standing sex, up against the wall. But then his other hand curved over her buttocks, and she pushed back at him, and he knew what he was going to do next.  
  
She moaned when he caressed her buttocks; the moans increased in volume as he squeezed the dusky globes, digging his nails in hard. He slapped her ass hard; she moaned again.  
  
She allowed him to bend her over the counter, and then he rummaged in his bag and found the lube. He hadn't been quite sure why he he had included it; Taylor certainly hadn't needed it, and nor had Madison. But then, neither had he attempted anal sex with either of them.  
  
Sophia seemed to snap out of it for a moment, and then he was caressing her once more, focusing on her ass, running his fingers between her buttocks, rubbing at her tight little brown asshole. She breathed deeply and pushed back at his probing digits.  
  
 _Well, well, it looks like Sophia is a fan._  
  
Pouring lube over his fingers, he massaged it into her ass crack, pushing carefully into her tight orifice itself. She moaned and clenched around his intruding finger, pushing back at him so that the entire length of his finger slipped inside her.  
  
That was all the invitation he needed; rubbing more lube over his once more rampant erection, he put the lube down, took hold of her hips and placed his penis at the inviting entrance to her tightest hole.  
  
He didn't just ram it home, as he had with her vagina; even with the most willing participant, anal sex needs to be taken carefully at first. So he pressed gently; her sphincter resisted at first, then she groaned loudly as his head popped inside her. She braced herself against the counter and pushed backward; he took a firmer grip, and slid a little way farther into her. Her groans increased in volume and intensity as he gradually fed his cock into the tightest, hottest orifice he had ever had the pleasure of penetrating.  
  
He did not thrust in all at once, of course. Slowly and surely, he pumped his hips back and forth, gaining a little ground with each thrust, feeling the massively tight sphincter gripping him like a vise. She sobbed and groaned and pushed back at him, even as he pulled on her hips. The length of his manhood still outside her hot, tight ass slowly decreased; he watched her anal sphincter stretching to accommodate his thickness as he slowly fucked his way into her most secret orifice.  
  
And then, finally, he was all the way up inside her. The pressure and heat coming to bear on his cock were massive; he could well imagine similar pressure and heat crystallising coal to diamonds, at the centre of the Earth. She was whimpering, holding herself rigid, still pushing back at him, even there was no more of him to go inside of her.  
  
Slowly, then with increasing speed, he began to pump his erection in and out of her. She responded with gratifyingly loud groans and writhings; her ass clenched around his punishing cock as though she were trying to rip it out by the roots. He gripped her waist tightly as he thrust between her taut brown buttocks, over and over again.  
  
At some point, neither of them were able to stay standing, such was the pleasure blasting through their bodies; Brian guided her down to all fours, not allowing his penis to slide out of her tight, over-stretched asshole. Once he was down and kneeling behind her, he resumed thrusting, pummelling her tight hole as hard as he could.  
  
She arched her back and screamed as the first orgasm hit, and simply kept going as he continued to ram his thick penis into her tightest hole. Despite the previous orgasm, which he would have sworn had utterly depleted him, he felt his climax rising. Gritting his teeth, he hung on - it was akin to riding a bucking bull - and fucked her ass even harder.  
  
His ears were ringing from her extremely loud approbation of his anal activities when he finally felt the surge happening; the semen blasted up through his cock, tracing a line of fire as it went. When it erupted from the head of his penis, he thought the top of his head was about to explode; the pleasure was so intense he nearly passed out.  
  
For Sophia, it was that intense; she screamed, arching her back until her belly nearly touched the floor as he pumped jet after jet of hot semen deep into her bowels, and then she collapsed limply to the floor.  
  
He followed her down, his cock draining of the last few spurts before he slid out of her. At the release of the pressure gripping his cock, he splattered more semen all over her buttocks and back and thighs, the last few droplets squeezing out as his eyes rolled back in his head with the truly amazing sensations. More semen leaked out of her slowly-closing asshole, joining that which was already leaking from her recently-fucked pussy.  
  
He was just admiring the sight, wondering how he was going to wake her up, when the door opened again.  
  
"I tell you, I heard it coming from in here - oh, shit!" exclaimed the janitor.  
  
Quickly, Brian grabbed his clothes and his bag before anyone could notice them, but no-one was paying any attention. Carl, and Principal Blackwell, were staring at the limp, naked form of Sophia Hess, slumped on the floor with her ass cocked in the air. Dribbles of Brian's semen were still making their way down her perfect buttocks.  
  
Grinning, he left them to it. Strolling out of the bathroom, he casually put his clothes on in the hallway.  _She's gonna have a bit to explain,_  he decided.  _But I have no idea how she evaded them the first time around._  His cock was still tingling from the intense sex as he put it away and zipped up.  _Seriously, I'm going to have to do her again. She's seriously ... that was seriously fucking awesome._  
  
 _And I still have to find Taylor and apologise to her for what I've done. Make it right, somehow._  
  
Strolling off down the hallway, he continued to think of ways to do that.


	4. Making Things Right

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Brian decides to see what he can do to fix the situation.

_"Director, this is Lieutenant Scoville, attending the Master/Stranger call at Winslow."_  
  
Piggot nodded. "Report."  
  
 _"Uh, we examined Shadow Stalker. She showed signs of sexual activity, but no injuries are evident. We also collected DNA evidence."_  
  
Piggot nodded. "Good. Ask around; is this an isolated incident, or have others been targeted?"  
  
 _"Already done, ma'am,"_  he reported.  _"A girl called Madison Clements. Took her clothes off in class, then was found naked in the stock room, in a compromising position. She thinks she may have also been interfered with."_  
  
"Excellent," nodded Piggot. "Have you collected DNA from her as well?"  
  
 _"Uh, apparently she had a tub bath last night. There isn't much to collect."_  
  
"Oh well, you can't have everything. Is the DNA evidence stored securely?"  
  
He paused.  _"DNA evidence?"_  
  
"The DNA evidence that you collected from Shadow Stalker," she reiterated patiently.  
  
 _"I'm ... not sure what you're talking about."_  
  
"Lieutenant!" Her voice cracked like a whip. "The Stranger is  _present_. He is  _right there, right now_. Turn on your cameras. Sweep the area. One of you should catch him!"  
  
There was another pause.  _"... cameras?"_  
  
Piggot's forehead hit the desk with a gentle  _thud_.  _He stole their cameras **first**._  
  
 _Fuck._  
  


<><>

  
Whistling a jaunty tune, Brian strolled out of the school. He ducked under the emergency tape, nudged aside a PRT guard, and stole a doughnut from the box on the hood of one of the vehicles. The shoulder-mounted cameras had been a pain to steal, but he had all of them in a handy bag that he'd liberated from one of the paramedics.  
  
In the other case was all the DNA samples they had gathered from Sophia, to her extreme embarrassment. He'd filmed it on his phone, just for chuckles. He didn't know what he'd do with the footage, but he was sure he would figure out something.  
  
After the examination, she had gone for a lengthy shower; he had been tempted to interrupt for another bout of sex, but he didn't think he was up to it, and he didn't want to give the PRT even more DNA to play with. That had almost been a huge mistake.  
  
The other question was, why had the PRT showed up in such force at Winslow, at all places? After all, he'd picked the school so that no such outcry would happen. And with Taylor and Madison, it hadn't.  
  
Why, then ... ?  
  
He mused over the question as he rummaged in the back of a PRT van and found a couple of road flares. Strolling off down the road, he found a convenient dumpster, and opened the case holding the DNA samples. Pulling the tabs on the flares, he shut them in the case, then dropped the case in the dumpster. The cameras went down a storm drain.  
  
And then, between one step and the next, he had the answer.  
  
 _Slender, black, athletic, gets places without being seen.  
  
Holy fuck, Sophia is Shadow Stalker.  
  
I just fucked Shadow Stalker in the ass. And she liked it._  
  
Behind him, with a gentle  _whoomph_ , the plastic case caught fire, smoke rising from the funeral pyre of his DNA evidence.  
  
Abruptly, he came to a decision; walking down the street and around the corner, he pulled out his mobile and dialled the newest number.  
  


<><>

  
Taylor had no idea what was going on. First, Madison had taken her clothes off in class, and then been found naked - so they said - in the stock room. Greg, at least, had described her in details that were far too lurid to make up. And then, today, Sophia had been found in the boys' bathroom well after first period had started, showing all the signs of having been the focal point of an orgy. The PRT had arrived in force; at first, Taylor had thought they were going to question her about Sophia's bullshit accusations, but all they wanted to know was if anyone else had found themselves in the same position as Sophia and Madison.  
  
She knew  _something_  was going on with her, but she could not with all conscience say that it was the  _same_  as what was happening with them. After all, she had not been found naked by teachers. And if someone  _had_  had sex with her, as creepy as that sounded, he seemed to have cleaned her up afterward.  
  
She frowned.  _Is _that_  what happened on Friday? Did someone have sex with me, then clean everything off me, even the soda and juice?_  
  
She really didn't know how to feel about that; on the one hand, the intrusion on her privacy was staggering and not a little creepy. On the other hand, she'd had nothing but good feelings, and she'd always been clothed afterward. And whoever had cleaned her up on Friday had done her a huge favour. Yes, she'd been late to class, but it had almost been worth it to see Emma's face when she took her place with barely any marks to show what had happened. And the feeling of inner satiation, the sensation that something fantastic had happened, had not gone away.  
  
On Monday, after Mr Gladly's class, and the weird happenings with Sophia, she had experienced another timeskip, and ended up with the same intense feelings of ... pleasure. The memory of pleasure. Something that had felt so good, even though she didn't remember it, she remembered  _feeling_  that good.  
  
 _I think I need to think about this. I **like**  feeling this good._  
  
And then her phone rang, the one Lisa had given her.  
  
Fishing it out, she pressed the answer button. "Hello?"  
  
 _"Hi, it's Brian."_  
  
She smiled, remembering his handsome face. Colouring slightly from the weird intensity of feeling she had from being near him. "Brian! It's good to hear from you. You'll never believe what's happened at school today."  
  
 _"Wanna meet, and we can talk about it?"_  
  
She grinned, almost giddy.  _I could seriously get a crush on him._  "Sure. Where do you want to meet?"  
  
 _"How about Fugly Bob's?"_  
  
Her grin widened. "See you there."


	5. Explanations

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Brian confesses; Taylor lays down the law. This time, the sex is consensual from both sides.

Brian strolled into Fugly Bob's with his power active; he wanted to scout out the terrain before committing himself. He located Taylor almost immediately; she was sitting at a table on her own, with a basket of fries in front of her. He tried to imagine her making a try at the Challenger, and grinned. While she was good at eating  _some_  things – him, for instance – the Challenger might just prove to be too much for her.  
  
He was tempted to go over and sit next to her, to play with her until she couldn't stand it any more. But he didn't.  _Just because I can, just because I have, doesn't mean that I **should.**_  
  
So instead suppressed his power, and placed his hand on her shoulder. “Hey, Taylor.”  
  
Her head whipped around, and she stared up at him. “Brian! Where did  _you_  come from?”  
  
He grinned at her; she grinned back. “Just got here.”  
  
As he sat down, he unzipped his sweatshirt; he saw her looking at his chest, where the t-shirt defined his muscles, and he saw the blush rising up her face.  
  
 _Wow, her body's really learned to respond to me. Even if she has no idea what's going on._  
  
“So, uh,” she stumbled, “what did you, uh, want to talk about?”  
  
He reached across the table and took her hand in his; she froze, staring at him with wide eyes.  
  
“Relax,” he told her softly. “You're allowed to breathe. I'm not going to bite you.”  
  
She nodded jerkily, and he let her hand go. It seemed to him that she was simultaneously relieved and disappointed that he had done so.  _She's been hurt by people close to her._  
  
“So,” he added, picking up a menu and lifting it so that they only had eye contact over the very top edge. “What happened at school today that was so fantastic?”  
  
“Uh, not so much fantastic as weird,” she managed to say, getting her train of thought back on the tracks. “Sophia basically accused me of being a cape, but she said I had some weird telekinesis or teleportation power. Which I don't have. And then she said she was going to tell Blackwell about it. But then I heard later on that she never got there. In fact, she missed her next two classes. And they say Blackwell and the janitor found her in the boys' bathrooms,  _naked!”_  
  
She lowered her voice for the last word, but hissed it with enough emphasis that people at the next table looked around for a moment. She noticed this after a moment, and ducked her head, blushing.  
  
Brian noticed as well. “Hey, why don't we go for a walk?” he suggested.  
  
“I, uh, okay,” she agreed. She grabbed a handful of fries, as did he, and they exited the open-air restaurant.  
  
Strolling along the Boardwalk seemed to be less stressful to her than sitting opposite him; he ate fries and watched her from the corner of his eye. “So what else happened?”  
  
“This is the weird bit,” she went on. “Someone said she looked like she'd been having sex,” the blush mounted in her cheeks as she said this, but she didn't seem to care, “but they didn't call in the cops. They called in the PRT. Checked the school over. Asked everyone in school if something like that had happened to them too.”  
  
He tilted his head. “And had it?”  
  
She grinned up at him. “Oh yeah. Yesterday? Madison took my World Affairs paper, but I was able to get it back. But then she took off her top and her bra and stood up in class.”  
  
Brian raised an eyebrow. He didn't recall Madison standing up until she was told to put her clothes back on, but it just went to show how people's memories were affected by time.  
  
“Why would she do something like that?” he asked. “Is this something she normally does?”  
  
She shook her head. “No, she's normally very straight-arrow. She's one of Emma's friends, you now.”  
  
He ate his last fry. “And Emma is … ?”  
  
“Oh, sorry. I keep assuming that everyone knows everything about me. Emma's one of the … one of the girls who … “  
  
She stopped talking and hung her head. Turning, she leaned on the rail, looking out to sea. Her shoulders hunched.  
  
He put his hand on her shoulder, and she flinched. After a moment, he thought he heard a choked sob.  
  
“Hey,” he murmured. “Hey hey hey. It's good. I'm here. I'll listen.”  
  
She didn't object as he put his arm around her and pulled her into his chest. She was crying, tears running down her cheeks from behind her large round glasses, eyes reddened. He patted her back, holding her gently. Seeing a bench nearby, he guided her over to it and they both sat down.  
  
Eventually, she stopped crying, and raised her head to look at him. “Sorry,” she mumbled. “Sorry. I feel like such an idiot now.”  
  
Offering her a handkerchief, he shook his head. “Hey, shit happens. You don't have to apologise.”  
  
She wiped her eyes and then blew her nose, then put her glasses back on. “Thanks. You have no idea how good it is to have friends. Even supervillain friends.”  
  
He wanted to kiss her so badly at that moment, but felt that it would be entirely the wrong thing to do.  
  
All the same …  _I could lead her down under the Boardwalk, get her clothes off, give her a good solid orgasm or three, and then bring her back up here. She'd be feeling much better. Win-win._  
  
But he didn't.  
  
Raising his hand, he used his thumb to wipe away an errant tear. “It's all right. If you don't want to talk about Emma, you don't have to.”  
  
She shook her head. “No. I want to. Emma … Emma was my best friend. She stabbed me in the back. Her and Sophia and Madison … since September before last, they've been hounding me, tormenting me, and I don't know  _why.”_  Her voice rose in frustration at that last bit.  
  
“I don't know either, but I think I have half an idea about part of it,” Brian told her. “But you're going to have to swear to keep a secret.”  
  
She tilted her head. “What secret?”  
  
He took a deep breath. “Sophia is Shadow Stalker.”  
  
She froze for a long, long moment. “What?”  
  
It didn't sound any better the second time around. “Sophia – the girl who torments you in class – is Shadow Stalker.”  
  
Taylor shook her head. “No. That's impossible.”  
  
He raised an eyebrow. “Why?”  
  
“She's a  _hero.”_  
  
He snorted. “She was a vigilante, a rogue. Used sharp arrows. Still does, when she can get away with it.” He pulled up his t-shirt. “Here, have a look.”  
  
She glanced down at his abdominal muscles, and blushed right to the roots of her hair.  
  
“Look,” he insisted, pointing at the scar on his stomach. “That's one of her arrows, right there. I nearly died.”  
  
Her embarrassment at looking at his stomach faded as she stared at the scar. “She tried to  _kill_  you?”  
  
Brian shook his head. "Not me, exactly. She was shooting at Tattletale."  
  
Taylor frowned. "Why?"  
  
Brian sighed. "We were doing a job, and Shadow Stalker stumbled on us. She was holding us at crossbow-point - this is when she was supposed to be using trank arrows, mind you - and Tattletale couldn't help snarking off at her. Then she suggested that Shadow Stalker leave before she said something that she didn't want to hear."  
  
He leaned back against the seat and closed his eyes for a moment. "I'd been off checking something, and got back just in time. Otherwise I would have just walked up and taken the arrow out of her crossbow. I shoved Tattletale out of the way, and the arrow got me instead. Regent made her jump out the window, and they got me out of there."  
  
 _No **wonder**  I enjoyed fucking her so much. Maybe my subconscious knew long before I did._  
  
Taylor let her head fall back. “Fuck. No  _wonder_  she gets away with everything.”  
  
Brian nodded. “Okay, maybe her, but what about this Emma?”  
  
Taylor waved airily. “Oh, she's got a dad who's a lawyer. Also, she's the prettiest and most popular girl in school. The teachers bend over backward to give her a free pass.”  
  
“Really.” Brian's voice was hard.  
  
She nodded. “Really. So when I complain, they ignore me. When they put in bullshit complaints about me … “ She didn't need to finish the statement.  
  
“Yeah,” he agreed heavily. “And like I said, I know sort of what might be going on.”  
  
She looked at him, questioningly. “What?”  
  
He raised his hands defensively. “Now keep in mind that I'm not Lisa. I can't join all the dots at once. But I know Shadow Stalker. She's all about being the hunter. About  _winning._  Anyone who makes her lose is in for a world of hurt. If she met Emma, and decided that Emma should be  _her_  best friend, and not  _yours_ , then she'd set out to do that.”  
  
Taylor blinked. “I can't even get my head around that. I mean, Emma can have more than one friend, right? I don't mind if she has more friends than me! Geez, she's got the whole  _school!_  But she doesn't have to bully me! She doesn't have to go near me if she doesn't want to!”  
  
She was getting more and more flustered, her voice rising. Brian acted on instinct; he turned her face to his, and kissed her.  
  
Taylor's eyes went very wide, and she stopped talking.  
  
“I like you,” Brian told her softly. “I like you a lot. Sorry if I just stepped over the line there, but I wanted you to know that.”  
  
Her mouth opened and closed a couple of times, without saying anything.  
  
Brian waited patiently.  
  
“I … I like you a lot, too,” she managed at last. “I've wanted to kiss you  _so bad_ , but I didn't want to drive you off … “  
  
He smoothed her hair back from her forehead. She blushed vividly.  
  
“Oh god,” she murmured. “Every time you touch me, it feels like … “  
  
He tilted his head. “Like what?”  
  
She blushed more vividly than ever. “Like you've touched me before, all over, and I like it. Sorry. Sorry sorry sorry.”  
  
“Don't be,” he assured her. “I should be apologising for kissing you without your permission.”  
  
“Oh god,” she murmured. “When you did that, I was expecting sparks, fireworks. But it just … calmed everything down, you know? Made me feel at peace. For the first time in forever.”  
  
He wasn't sure who kissed whom first, then, but their lips met, and their arms went around one another.  
  
The kiss went on for some time; he had time to note that, aware, she was a really good kisser. And then he wasn't paying attention to anything.  
  
When they surfaced, her eyes were glazed. “Oh god,” she whimpered. “I feel like … I feel like … “  
  
He knew exactly what she felt like; he could feel the tension, the yearning, in her body. Also, he felt exactly the same way.  
  
“Maybe we should cool it down,” he suggested, though he wanted to say exactly the opposite. “Back off a little.”  
  
Reluctantly, she nodded. “Maybe we should. I … Dad would give me hell if I got pregnant.”  
  
He took a deep breath. “Can I ask you a very personal question?”  
  
She gave him a shaky laugh. “Can't guarantee an answer. But sure, ask.”  
  
He hesitated for the longest time. “Are you a virgin?”  
  
“I, uh -” She paused. “Uh, I'm not really sure.”  
  
He raised an eyebrow, waited for her to go on.  
  
“I, uh, just, there's been things happening,” she continued in a rush. “At school. They say Madison – they say when she went into the stock room to put her top back on, she had sex with someone in there. And they say Sophia had sex in the boys' bathrooms. But Madison and Sophia  _don't remember._  So they think a Stranger might be going around having sex with the girls. So they asked everyone else. And I'm not sure, but I think … maybe …. “  
  
She trailed off, biting her lip.  
  
“Maybe?” he asked quietly. “Maybe what?”  
  
“I've been missing time,” she told him eventually. “Twice. Once after the girls poured stuff over me, and once after, well, after Madison went to the principal's office. The first time was nearly an hour, and the second time was about fifteen minutes. And each time I felt really, really good afterward.” She gestured toward her breasts, her groin. “Really good there and there. Like, I guess, if … “ She trailed off again.  
  
“Like someone had had sex with you, but you couldn't remember it,” Brian filled in for her. “Afterglow.”  
  
At the mention of sex, she blushed, but she nodded. “Exactly. But it's not like it was with the other girls. I'm not being just left naked. Whoever's doing it must be cleaning me up, putting my clothes back on.”  
  
“ _That's_  pretty considerate,” murmured Brian. “But how do you feel about it? About some stranger – upper  _and_  lower case Stranger – just having his way with you? Not asking permission, not telling you about it afterward?”  
  
Taylor shrugged. “I'm trying not to think too hard about it. At least I'm not on detention, like Madison. Or pulled out of the school altogether, like Sophia.”  
  
“Wait, they pulled her out of the school?” blurted Brian. He hadn't heard  _that_  bit before.  
  
“Yeah,” Taylor told him. “I couldn't understand it, before, but now I think I do. If this guy was a Stranger, and he targeted a Ward in school … “  
  
“It means at the very least, that she's compromised,” Brian nodded. “Dunno why I didn't think of that myself.”  
  
She smiled. “So that means that if it's my mysterious molester who's to blame for Sophia being taken out of Winslow … oh god, I owe him my thanks.”  
  
Brian tried not to grimace as she referred to him, all unaware, as a 'molester'. Which, of course, he was. But he didn't like to think about it that way.  
  
“So what if this guy … comes back for another helping?” asked Brian.  
  
“You mean, to have sex with me again?” asked Taylor. “I … shit, I don't know. I really don't. On the one hand, what he's doing – if he's really doing something, and I'm not just imagining stuff – it's really creepy, you know? Using me as a sex doll. Not even asking.” She paused. “On the other hand, it must be nice. I only felt a little bit sore the first time, and after that, it just felt … sort of like remembering something that was really awesome at the time. You know?”  
  
Brian nodded.  
  
“Yeah, so he must be being gentle, and he's cleaning me up, and putting my clothes back on,” she mused. “And I've been feeling really good all day about it. So there's that. So unless he gets me pregnant or something … urgh. I have been feeling a little wonky. Do you think I could be pregnant?”  
  
Brian shrugged. “Dunno. When did this happen?”  
  
“Uh, Thursday and … Monday,” she recalled.  
  
“And it's only Tuesday,” he reminded her. “You wouldn't even be showing symptoms yet.” He rubbed his chin. “Maybe, and this is only a supposition … “ He trailed off.  
  
“Yeah?” she asked.  
  
“Maybe, if this guy's so considerate, maybe he's feeding you morning-after pills, just to make sure you don't get pregnant,” he suggested.  
  
“God,” she muttered. “Wow. That seriously suggests that he's looking to keep this up long term.”  
  
“Looks like it,” he agreed truthfully.  
  
She ran her hands through her hair. “Oh god, if someone has sex with me without me knowing, and I enjoy it, is it rape? Should I leave a note for him?  _Dear mystery sex partner, next time make an appointment._ ”  
  
He snorted. “So some people have secret admirers. You have a secret -”  
  
“ - rapist,” she concluded. “He doesn't give me an option in the matter. He could do  _anything_  to me. What if I wanted to be a virgin till I married? There's that gone. What if I wanted my first time to be with someone special, like you?”  
  
Time froze. She stared at him, her eyes wide. He looked back at her.  
  
“I -” she began. He put a finger on her lips. She shut up.  
  
“Taylor,” he told her softly. “I want you to do me a favour.”  
  
She blinked. “What?”  
  
“I want you to punch me in the face, as hard as you can.”  
  
“ _What?_  Why would I do something like that?”  
  
“Because I'm the guy.”  
  
She stared at him for half a second. He nodded.  
  
So she punched him.  
  
It wasn't a great punch; she'd never thrown one in anger before, he imagined. But it still hit hard enough to make his ears ring.  
  
And then she slapped him, and his ears rang all over again.  
  
“You  _bastard,”_ she gritted. “Give me one good reason why I should ever even see you again.”  
  
He took a deep breath, and wiped away the trickle of blood from his nose. “Because I'm telling you this. Because I don't want to stop. Because I respect you too much to keep going without you knowing it's me.”  
  
She continued to glower at him. He lowered his head. “Because I can't do it to you any more. Not without you knowing.”  
  
She slapped him across the back of the head.  
  
“Was it you with Madison and Sophia too?” she asked harshly. “Did you rape them too?”  
  
He flinched. “I had sex with them, yes,” he admitted. “But I don't think -”  
  
“Shut up,” she ordered him. “If I say it's rape, it's rape. The way you left them -”  
  
He raised his head to look at her. “I did it that way because of how they treated  _you.”_  
  
She paused, eyes widening. “What?”  
  
He took a deep breath. “Yes, I admit it. I went into Winslow to have sex with some random girl. Because it's a cast-iron fucking  _bitch_  to try to have sex when your powers cut in, and make your sex partner forget who you are  _in the middle of the act.”_  He paused; she didn't comment, so he went on.  
  
“I saw you in the bathrooms, so I seduced you and we had sex. Three times, as it happens. With you, it was … right. And yes, if I know anything, I know you enjoyed it. And I cleaned you up, and I cleaned your clothes as best I could, and I let you go. And all I know is that you were angry and unhappy before we started, and afterward … you weren't.”  
  
Her voice was still harsh, but less so now. “Why? Why did you bother cleaning me up? Why didn't you leave me in a puddle of … “  
  
 _Of cum,_  his inner voice gleefully filled in.  
  
“Because I  _liked_  you,” he tried to explain. “You didn't deserve the shit those girls put on you. So I thought, you'd helped me with my problem, I would help you with yours.”  
  
“And Madison?” she asked quietly.  
  
“She took your paper away, so I gave it back. So then I took her top and bra off, and followed her into the stock room.”  
  
“And you raped her.”  
  
He ducked his head again. “I … yeah, I guess I did. She wasn't unwilling, though. But she wasn't as … as good as you.”  
  
She frowned. “Good?”  
  
“The way you respond,” he told her. “I enjoyed it with you more than I did with her.”  
  
“Hm,” she growled, prodding him in the ribs. “Still not forgiven, rape-boy. So tell me about Sophia.”  
  
Again, he took a deep breath. “You know when she tripped, when she was trying to grab you and failed?”  
  
She nodded. “Yeah … oh, that was  _you?”_  
  
“Yeah. I was there.”  
  
“I had my second timeskip just after that.”  
  
“We had sex on the teacher's desk in that classroom.”  
  
She blinked. “Did I enjoy it?”  
  
“I still have the fingernail marks in my back,” he told her honestly.  
  
“I  _do_  remember feeling really good after that,” she mused. She prodded him again. “Keep going.”  
  
“Well, when she went to go to the Principal about that, I … kind of steered her off course. Took her to the boys' bathrooms. Seduced her. It didn't take much. And we had sex. Kind of a lot.”  
  
She frowned. “Did she know you were there?”  
  
He shook his head. “Nope. What I have isn't invisibility. It makes people forget, second by second, what I'm doing. And if what I'm doing affects something else, the effect extends that far too.”  
  
“And you just left there there. Like Madison.”  
  
He sighed. “Yeah. Didn't know she was Shadow Stalker then. The PRT was a big hint. They got DNA from her -”  
  
“Oh shit,” muttered Taylor. “That could be bad.”  
  
He shook his head. “Nope. I went in there and walked out with it. As soon as I picked it up, they forgot it existed.”  
  
She tried hard not to laugh, and turned it into a snort. “Fucking bullshit Stranger powers.”  
  
Deadpan, he nodded. Then his facade cracked. “Taylor … “  
  
She glared at him. “Yeah?”  
  
“Do you want to hit me again?”  
  
For a long moment, she paused, fist clenched.  
  
“Fuck it, no,” she muttered. “You came clean. That's gotta count for  _something._  And I'm still pissed at you. Really, really pissed. You fucking  _raped_ me.” She prodded him in the centre of the chest. “That's really, really, really uncool.”  
  
“I  _know.”_  His voice was full of pleading. “I'm sorry. I'm really, really sorry.”  
  
She punched him in the chest, not softly. “And doing what you did to Sophia and Madison … also not cool. You could've gotten them pregnant.”  
  
“But the embarrassment aspect of it … “ he suggested.  
  
She grinned reluctantly. “Well, yeah, that part of it … I  _guess.”_  
  
He took a deep breath. “So if I told you that I was planning to collect the set … “  
  
Her eyes widened. “Fuck, what? You're going to do that to  _Emma?”_  
  
“I'll wear protection,” he told her hastily. “I won't get her pregnant.”  
  
“No, not even that,” she snapped. “That's rape, and that's beyond uncool.”  
  
“Okay, how about a wardrobe malfunction?” he suggested.  
  
Her eyes narrowed. “Now, that I could get behind … “ She grinned. “Wednesday afternoon, they have cheerleader practice. A lot of the jocks show up to cheer them on. They do acrobatic moves … “  
  
He grinned back at her. “Say no more.” He cleared his throat. “But … on the other topic … “  
  
She raised an eyebrow. “Yes?”  
  
“If I … hypothetically … asked permission to have sex with you … would you object, even if you didn't remember half of what happened during it?”  
  
“Hypothetically,” she growled.  
  
“Yeah,” he agreed. “Hypothetically.”  
  
She took a deep breath. “Fuck it,” she sighed. “It's not like we didn't do it before. Okay, fine,  _hypothetically,_  if I wasn't feeling so pissed at you, and you asked really nicely, and promised to use protection, and cuddled me after, then maybe, possibly, that might happen.”  
  
He reached up, and turned her face toward his. She went to say something, and he kissed her.  
  
Her lips melted to his, and the kiss drew out longer and longer.  
  
When they finally broke apart, she was breathing heavily. “Bastard,” she muttered. “Still pissed at you.”  
  
This time, she kissed him. Her hands were moving over his body by the time they finished. His were cupping her buttocks.  
  
Her eyes were unfocused. “Oh god,” she moaned softly. “Oh god.”  
  
Scooping her up in his arms, he carried her down the steps on to the sand. She did not protest.  
  


<><>

  
Under the Boardwalk, the sand was firm and dry. He took off his sweatshirt so that she would have something for her head to rest on. And then he took off his t-shirt.  
  
She kissed him again, then, and ran her hands all over his torso. He reached up under her top, and undid her bra. When they broke the kiss, she pulled her hoodie off; the t-shirt underneath, and the bra, all came off at the same time.  
  
Laying her back on the sand, he kissed her, then nibbled at her neck. She moaned, arching her back.  
  
“Oh god,” she murmured, clutching at him. “Is this how you do it when - “  
  
“Yes,” he confirmed, fastening his lips on to her nipple. She arched her back again, then, and cried out. Her hands ran over his shoulders and back as he suckled and nipped at her sensitive nipples, and ran his tongue over her breasts.  
  
She whimpered as he slowly kissed and nibbled his way down her taut stomach, but when he undid her jeans, she lifted her butt so he could pull them down and off.  
  
“Are you – are you going to have sex with me now?” she managed to ask.  
  
“Not yet,” he told her. “I'm gonna make you good and ready first.”  
  
So saying, he lowered his mouth to her deliciously pink labia.  
  
As he lapped away at her flowing juices, she jerked and cried out under him. She clutched at his head and arched her back, letting out stifled whimpers as he worked away at her. When he suckled at her clit, she came for the first time. But not the last.  
  
Slowly, steadily, he drove her from one orgasm to the next, his tongue, teeth and fingers busy on her sweet young pussy. By the time he decided that she'd had enough, she was barely coherent.  
  
The pause he took as he knelt up to grab a condom from his wallet and roll it on to his penis gave her a breathing space. Her eyes came into focus, and she stared up at him.  
  
“Oh my god,” she breathed. “That was … oh my god. Words do not describe.”  
  
He got down between her legs and kissed her. “If you think that was good,” he murmured, “wait for the main event.”  
  
He was keeping a tight control over his power, but he knew it would slip soon. So he rubbed his latex-clad erection over her slippery-wet labia, and poised at the entrance to her hot, inviting centre.  
  
“Are you ready?” he asked.  
  
For an answer, she grabbed him and kissed him.  
  
And slowly, gradually, he slid into her. And she was aware enough to know it.  
  
He didn't have much control left, and as he started to stroke into her, even that began to slip away.  
  
“Oh god,” she gasped. “Oh god, Brian, yes, oh … “  
  
She stopped speaking then, her eyes fixed in space. Brian knew what that meant; his power was active, and she was simply acting from instinct.  
  
He kissed her again and again, caressed her body, and pushed his rampant cock deep into her hot wet slippery vagina. She wrapped her legs around him, and moaned incoherently. He had primed her well; she came another three times before he finally emptied out into the condom. It wasn't nearly as satisfying as riding bareback, but he supposed they could talk about that.  
  


<><>

  
When he finally managed to get his power back under control, he was just pulling out of her. Her eyes came into focus, and she blinked.  
  
“What?” she murmured. “Was that  _it?”_  
  
He grinned and kissed her. “How do you feel?”  
  
She blinked again. “Wow. Oh wow. Oh  _wow.”_  
  
He held her close. “Oh yeah. Wow.”  
  
She kissed him softly, tenderly. “Thank you, Brian. I'm still pissed at you, but I understand now.”  
  
He smiled at her. “I'm really sorry.”  
  
She grinned. “Oh, that's okay. You've got a lot of apologising to do.” Her hand found his deflating penis. “One orgasm at a time.”  
  
His lips found hers once more. “I can live with that.”  
  
 _And tomorrow, he told himself, Emma.  
  
Boy, is  **she**  gonna be surprised._


	6. Why Brian Went to Winslow

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A flashback, explaining Brian's choice of sex partners.

_I have got to be crazy._  
  
But he knew he wasn't. Not entirely, anyway.  
  
He was just being afflicted by that very common ailment among teenage boys, "blue balls". Plus, obsession over an unattainable goal.  
  
 _Why does she have to be so damn sexy?_  
  
That costume, so tight in all the right places, that figure. The way she stood.  
  
The way she'd spoken to him.  
  


<><>  


He and Aisha had been just heading down to the local Chinese for a takeaway of spicy chicken when the Empire Eighty-Eight boys had rolled on through. One of them had tossed some sort of explosive device through the window of the Chinese shop; the explosion had taken out the entire storefront. He'd had just enough time to shield Aisha from the shockwave, but he'd been hit pretty hard.

In the aftermath, lying there dazed, he'd barely been aware of the PRT coming on in, hitting the Empire guys, taking them into custody. Aisha, minus her usual snark, had been trying desperately to get him to move, to wake up, to get up. He had been dazed, confused, not really there.

And then a pair of boots had stopped in front of him. The owner of the boots had crouched down. A cool hand had turned his head. Liquid brown eyes had stared into his.

He had blinked, and gotten some more control back. "Ow," he'd said.

_Yeah, great way to make a first impression._

He'd gotten the idea that she was smiling; she'd turned to Aisha. "I think he'll be all right," she'd told his sister.

Strong hands had checked him over -  _ooh, frisk me, please! -_  and had found no wounds, nothing sticking into him.

"How do you feel?" she had asked him directly.

He had forced rubbery lips to comply. "Wow. Hurts. Better. You're beautiful."

That last bit had slipped out without his conscious bidding; he could have bitten his tongue.

Her laughter had been low and warm, not malicious or hurtful. "Thank you. You're obviously feeling better."

Carefully, she had placed him in the recovery position, and called over a medic. He had relished every touch of her hand on him.

The medic, in contrast, was impersonal and brisk. He checked Brian over, gave him a clean bill of health, and told him to see a doctor if anything seemed to be wrong.

Apart from the odd ache or pain, Brian was feeling better in a couple of days ... apart from the yearning he felt.

He had to see her again. He had to tell her how he felt. Show her. Prove to her that he ...

what?

Loved her? Needed her? Wanted to have sex with her?

He had no idea. He just wanted to get next to her.

Which was why he was sneaking into the Protectorate base.  


<><>  


It wasn't as hard as it sounded, at first. All he really had to do was dodge the cameras. And they all pointed outward, or covered the public areas of the base. The private areas, such as the heroes entered as soon as they got on to the base, had far fewer cameras. And when  _people_  saw him, they forgot all about him in less than a second.

But here was the problem. He could get on to the base. He could follow Miss Militia back to her quarters.

_Once I get there, what am I going to say? If I just appear, she'll probably shoot me._

He had no answer. But he wasn't going to back out now. So he kept on following her.

The door to her quarters was thumb-printed, but he managed to duck inside before it hissed shut.

_Oh god. I'm alone with Miss Militia in her quarters. What do I do now?_

"Miss Militia," he began out loud, still cloaked in his power. "I think you're so sexy. I need to see you, to touch you, to talk to you ... "

His attention was arrested by the hero herself. Humming a little tune, she unwound the scarf from her face, and hung it over the doorknob. He stared at her features; she was even better looking than he'd imagined.

Stepping forward, he took her arms in his, and kissed her. He hadn't planned it, but it happened anyway.

She stopped, of course, and her lips were warm and soft against his. He kissed her again, a thrill shooting to every part of his body, then let her go, stepping back. If she stood still for too long, she might get suspicious.

A smile now curved her lips as she sat at a desk, and booted up a computer. Her fingers moved faster than he could follow, typing in a password.

Stepping up behind her, he watched over her shoulder as she opened up an instant message program. Sliding his hands over her shoulders, he massaged them gently. She twitched her shoulders and made a gentle  _mmm_  sound.

"I want to make you feel good," he told her, even as his hands slid down over her camouflaged top. He cupped her breasts in his hands and squeezed them gently. She arched her back, all unaware, pushing at his hands. He felt her nipples grow hard through the cloth, and rubbed thumb and forefinger over them. She caught her breath.

He watched to see what she was typing.

_Armsmaster,_  the text read.  _A little fatigued. Going to have a shower and a lie down. Hannah._

The reply popped up almost immediately.  _Understood. Let me know when you're up. Colin._

Brian stepped back as she stood up. Eyes wide, he watched her begin to unbutton her jacket. It fell open, revealing an olive-drab T-shirt underneath. She removed the jacket and hung it up, every motion precise and practiced. Next came the t-shirt, peeled off over a torso that was slim and muscular. He ran his hands over her belly and back as she reached back to unclip the lacy black bra; it popped free, hanging loose. She shrugged out of it, leaving her topless, and entirely delectable.

Once again, he could not resist; her breasts, now free of all constraint, felt delightfully smooth and warm against his hands. She closed her eyes and  _mmm_ ed again as he cupped and caressed them. Leaning in, he snatched another kiss; he could swear that she had responded, her lips moving against his.

Stepping back, he watched as she unfastened the flag-print scarf around her waist, and hung it with the other one. The weapon belt came free, with the ornate saber in the slings to her left. She hung that over the end of the bed. Bending over in front of him, she unfastened her boots, one by one. He caressed her ass, running his hands up and down between her thighs. She moaned softly, holding on to the end of the bed for support.

His erection was huge in his pants as he watched her unfasten her belt, and then her pants. Slowly, almost teasingly, she stripped out of the camouflaged trousers, kicking each leg free, one at a time. Her legs were smooth, brown, muscular. Her panties; tiny, lacy, black. They almost didn't cover her at all.

Again she bent over, to slide those panties down her long, long legs. He could not contain himself; he ran his hands over her ass again, squeezing her taut buttocks, caressing between her thighs. Her soft pink inner labia were startlingly bright against her skin tone, and very moist. She groaned out loud as he rubbed at her delicate sex, and daringly, slid a finger into her.

She was so tight, and hot ... oh god.

For a moment, he was horribly tempted, to drop his pants and take her, right then and there. But he didn't have full control of her actions; shakily, she stood up once more, and moved toward the shower.

Behind her back, he hastily removed his clothing, kicking it under her bunk. By the time he got back to her, she had the shower running, and was just preparing to step into the cubicle.

He stepped in with her.

Naked, next to her, in the hot running water, he could no longer control his impulses. He kissed her again; she responded positively this time. His hands ran over her body; she moved, rubbing against him. Rubbing against the throbbing erection.

Resisting the temptation to just go for it, he sank to his knees. She tried to resist being pushed back against the wall of the cubicle, but he was insistent, and she could not recall why not. He parted her legs, and began to lick and lap at her.

She arched her back, rubbing at her breasts and groaning, as he steadily ate her out. She was hot, musky and altogether intoxicating. Her juices flowed strongly, and he felt her clitoris standing out proudly. When he suckled on it, she came, hard. When he nibbled at it, she climaxed again, even harder.

With one finger in her hot, wet, tight vaginal canal, and another teasing at her ass, he gave her the best cunnilingus he was capable of. She cried out again and again as her sex was ravished by his tongue and lips and teeth.

Finally, he decided that she'd had enough, and he could not wait any more. So he stood up and took her in his arms. He kissed her; weakly, she kissed him back. She gasped as his thick erection prodded against the softly yielding entrance to her slippery, secret depths, and then gasped again as he slid into her.

His head fell back and he groaned as he felt her hot slippery wetness envelop him. Deeper and deeper he penetrated her, his manhood gripped and squeezed by her talented muscles. And then she lifted her legs off of the floor, and wrapped them around his waist.

It was a good thing that he was naturally strong, and that he worked out, because his knees nearly buckled, then and there. He slid to the hilt inside of her, causing them both to cry out simultaneously. It was a wonder that he did not cum, right then and there.

Slowly, then with more and more force, he began to stroke into her. She was pressed up against the wall of the shower cubicle, and she cried out every time he lifted her up, with his hands under her butt, and let her slide back down on to his length.

His eyes were nearly crossing with the sensations; her hot, tight vagina sheathing his cock and squeezing it oh so delightfully, her firm breasts rubbing up and down on his chest, the nipples almost tearing his skin, her nails digging into his back. The hot water running over it all, turning the entire experience into a sensual delight such as he had never had before.

When he exploded into her, he thought that he'd died and gone to heaven. His cock pulsed, spurting wad after wad after wad of his hot seed directly into her womb; she cried out and came again, her wet and willing vagina pulsing, squeezing, milking him of every drop of semen.

She clung to him, crying out as he kept thrusting into her, kept cumming, kept filling her full of his sperm. He kissed her, frantically; she replied in kind.

Finally, he had to let her down; had to let his deflating cock slide from her well-fucked pussy. Kissing her once more, he stepped back, letting her adjust her body on her own.

"Whoa," she murmured, staggering and leaning against the side of the shower cubicle. "What was  _that?"_

Anxiously, he watched her; if she got suspicious, he'd have to bolt ...

But her mind seemed to be already bridging the gap, eroding the memory fragments. Humming to herself, she washed herself down, incidentally flushing away the trickle of semen that crept out of her vagina. And if she spent a little more attention on her breasts and pussy than she normally would have, he didn't object.

She finished the shower and stepped out; he watched as she dried herself, smoothly, unselfconsciously. For all that he'd just had a massive climax, his penis soon began to respond to the sight of her. She hung the towel up and went back through to her living area. He borrowed the towel to dry himself off with; he didn't want her wondering why she was damp all over again.

When he got back to her, she was lying on her bed, still naked. She was on her side, one leg cocked up, as she gently rubbed at herself. He found the sight unbearably erotic.

Going to his knees beside her, he kissed her while beginning to caress her breasts once more. She moaned into the kiss, and her rubbing grew more intense. Running his hand over her flank, he caressed and squeezed her ass, then began to caress her body all over, smoothing his hand over her skin.

Her panting became more intense, especially when he lowered his mouth to her nipples, and began to suck and lick at them. When he nipped gently at one, she arched her back and came, driving her fingers quite deep inside herself.

Gently pushing her on to her back, he spread her legs without any resistance at all. Climbing on top of her, he placed the head of his thoroughly erect penis at the soft, wet, hot entrance to her sex. She did not resist, did not cry out, as he gradually pushed into her once more. Instead, she sighed, and he felt her arms wrap around him.

He kissed her then, his lips melding to hers. He had thought the shower sex was good. If anything, this was better. She lifted her hips, wrapping her strong, brown, muscular legs around his waist, pulling him hard into her. Her nails dug into his back, and she cried out each time he rammed himself to the hilt between her soft, clinging folds.

He'd already cum once, so he had a while to go before he could let go again, but she wasn't making it any easier to hold back. Her entire  _body_  moved under him, bucking and writhing and squeezing his already painfully-erect manhood. She clung to him, her nails raking his back, driving him to ever greater heights of effort.

She was hot, tight, wet. Her slippery depths sucked his penis into her, and was loath to release it. The sensations were  _incredible._  Her breasts rubbed against his chest, the nipples poking into his skin. Her hands, when she wasn't digging her nails in, roved over his back and buttocks, driving him ever more wild.

When she bit his shoulder, he couldn't help it any longer; he arched his back, driving his entire length into her at once, and came.

She orgasmed yet again, writhing under him, holding tightly to him as he jetted another load of his hot virile seed, deep into her belly. He gasped as he kept thrusting, kept fucking her, kept cumming, until he felt that he'd emptied out everything from his earlobes down to his toenails.

Finally, he was finished. Done. Over with. Drained.

He rolled off of her, groaning as he slid out of her for one last teasing sensation. Gently, he kissed her, feeling her kiss him back. She was just as wrecked as he was, he was sure. She'd certainly held nothing back.

"Wow," he muttered, as he climbed off the bed. "That was ... wow."

Slowly, carefully, he put his clothes on. Miss Militia was still lying on the bunk, apparently in some post-orgasmic daze.

"I'm glad you had a good time," he told her. "I sure did. I hope we can do this again sometime, but I have no idea when."

Leaning down, he planted one last kiss on her lips.

And that was when he heard the  _click-click_  of a gun being cocked, and the gentle pressure of a gun barrel at the side of his head.  


<><>  


His eyes went very wide, and he stared into hers. She was looking back at him. Looking  _at_  him.

Frantically, he checked that he hadn't let his power slip by accident.

No, it was still going full strength.

"Uh ... " he muttered, standing up.

The gun muzzle followed him. Rock steady. No hesitation.

Miss Militia sat up. Her naked body, still magnificent, now exuded the air of a hunter, a predator.

"Uh ... how long have you been aware ... ?"

She smiled. "Ever since you sneaked on board the transport," she informed him. "No-one else seemed to see you, so I decided to see what you were up to."

He gulped. "But how -"

Standing up, she seemed to tower over him, even though she was the shorter of them. "One aspect of my powers is that I remember  _everything._  Even things I've forgotten. So yes, I was forgetting your presence, but I was also remembering it, a second later."

"You played me!" he gasped.

She nodded. "I did. I was curious, and then when I realised what you were about, I admit that I was ... interested."

"But ... why?" he asked.

She pulled him to her, and kissed him hard. "Do you have to ask?" she growled. "I get so little chance to be  _me_. To meet people, to get intimate. To have  _sex."_

He held her naked body in his arms, and he kissed her back. He could do little else.

_"That's_  more like it," she murmured, running her hands over his body. "Do you have a name?"

"I, uh, Brian."

She smiled, lifting his t-shirt over his head. "Well, I-uh-Brian, there's two things you have to learn about me. I don't get tired as fast as other people, and I hate leaving things undone." She unfastened his jeans. "So you're coming back to bed with me, until  _I_  say you're done."

He stepped out of his jeans. It wasn't like he had a choice. After all, she had a gun.

When he was naked, she pushed him back on to the bed. "I think  _I'll_  be on top, this time," she purred. He didn't resist, especially not when she lowered her head and began to suck on him.

_Oh god,_  was his last coherent thought,  _even if I go to the Birdcage for this, it'll have been worth it._  


  
<><>  


Hours later, he stumbled in through the front door to his apartment. Aisha looked up in concern at him. "Holy shit, big bro," she exclaimed. "You look like you've been put through the wringer backward. What  _happened?"_

He shook his head. "I'm not even going to try to explain," he groaned. "Never again."

_From here on in,_  he decided.  _I'll stick with schoolgirls. Much better chance of survival._  



	7. Shenanigans

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Brian comes to Winslow to meet Taylor, and sets about dismantling a plot to discredit her.

**Wednesday Morning**  
  
Danny looked up as the back door opened.  
  
“Morning, Taylor,” he observed. “You're back early from your run. Is something the matter?”  
  
Taylor shook her head as she entered, closing the door behind her. “No, Dad,” she assured him. “But I need to talk to you about something, and I'd rather not be rushed about it.”  
  
He frowned slightly. “Something I need to be worried about?”  
  
She gave him a fleeting smile. “No, Dad. Just … something. Look, I need to have a shower. Can we talk when I get back downstairs?”  
  
“Of course,” he told her. “I'll be waiting.”  
  
“Thanks, Dad.” She went out through the entrance hall and trotted up the stairs; moments later, he heard the shower come on. Bemusedly, he kept on frying bacon and making omelettes.  
  


<><>

  
Her hair was still damp as she came back downstairs, some minutes later. Strolling into the kitchen, she swiped a piece of toast and buttered it as he loaded the plates with fragrant-smelling bacon and eggs.  
  
“So what was it you wanted to talk about?” he asked.  
  
Taking a bite of toast, she chewed and swallowed before answering.  
  
“What would you say if I told you I wanted to go on the pill?”  
  
He froze for just a moment; his face showed only a fraction of the consternation going through his mind. But then he started moving again, placing the plates carefully on the table.  
  
“I'd assume you had a good reason for it,” he told her, his voice admirably steady. “ _Do_  you?”  
  
The ball was firmly back in her court. “I, uh … I've told you about the people I met, right? Brian, Lisa, Alec and Rachel?”  
  
He nodded, seating himself. With a gesture, he invited her to do the same. “Two of those are boys,” he noted, apropos of nothing.  
  
“Yeah,” she agreed, scraping a chair out and sitting down. “Brian … is kind of good looking. Very good looking. I kind of like him, a lot.”  
  
A flush rose in her cheekbones as she spoke; Danny nodded perceptively. “And does he like you?”  
  
She nodded, sliding a fork under some egg. “Yeah,” she confirmed, looked down at what she was doing, the flush creeping higher. “He wants to … we want to date.”  
  
Danny's face was taking on the expression of someone who has just been unexpectedly kicked in the stomach, but he soldiered on. “And you think that something … might happen on one of these dates.”  
  
She put down the fork again, turned her eyes to his. “I … yeah, Dad. Something might happen. And I don't want to be having that whole other conversation with you, the type that starts with  _I'm pregnant,_  and ends with  _why didn't you take precautions?_  You know?”  
  
He nodded. “Yeah, I know.” His voice was heavy. “I'd like to meet this Brian. Can you ask him to come to the house when you go out next?”  
  
Her voice took on a tinge of desperation. “Please don't say anything mean to him. I  _like_  him. He's a nice guy.”  
  
His own voice was not much less desperate. “What am I supposed to say, to think, Taylor? You've as much as told me you're considering sleeping with him. That is, if you're not already.” A moment later, his expression changed, in realisation of what he'd just blurted out loud. “Shit, I'm sorry, Taylor. I didn't mean to say it like that.”  
  
Her own face had changed, but she shook her head. “It's okay, Dad. I … look, can I go on birth control? Please?”  
  
After a long, frozen moment, he nodded. “I … I guess I should be happy that you're actually asking this, being open about it, instead of going behind my back.” A deep sigh. “I guess … it's hard to actually accept that my little girl is growing up, becoming an adult.” He fixed his gaze on hers; she fidgeted under it. “One day, when you're married and have kids of your own - “ his deliberate wording made it clear that he desperately hoped that it would not happen the other way around - “and your little girl pipes up at the breakfast table, asking if she can go on the pill, I hope that you remember this day, and maybe give me a phone call to apologise for taking ten years off of my life.”  
  
She flushed again. “I'm sorry, Dad,” she replied contritely. “I mean, Mom gave me the 'talk' back when my … well, when she thought it was the right time, but she never told me how to talk to you about this.”  
  
He half-smiled. “That's because there  _is_  no way for a daughter to break it to her father that she's ready to start that particular activity. Okay, you can go on the pill. Just remember, it's not actually one hundred percent effective, and it might take a month or two to kick in. So please,  _be careful.”_  
  
She nodded seriously. “We haven't even gone on our first date yet. This is … just in case.”  
  
He did his best to put on a fatherly growl. “I still want to meet him.”  
  
“I'll get him to come around when we can,” she assured him. Getting up, she rounded the table and hugged him. “Thanks, Dad.”  
  
“It's all right,” he told her, thought he sounded less than totally convincing. “I'll get over it, I guess. After all, your mom's parents did, eventually.”  
  
Almost back to her chair, she stopped and looked at him in mild surprise. “Wait, what?”  
  
With an almost sheepish smile, he nodded. “This was a story I was saving till you were a bit older, maybe to embarrass you in front of your kids, but … well, you know that your mom and I were going out in college.”  
  
“I knew that, yeah,” she agreed as she sat down, then took a bite of egg.  
  
He nodded. “Well, we were kind of sleeping together. And, with one thing and another, we weren't as careful as we could have been, and we took a few chances, and one of those times, she got pregnant.”  
  
“With me,” she guessed.  
  
“With you,” he confirmed. “We got married, of course, as soon as she realised that she was pregnant. We'd been planning to anyway; you just moved the schedule up a bit. But that started the whole argument with them. Her dad was horrified that I'd knocked her up; her  _mom_  was horrified that she wouldn't be able to finish her law degree, because she was finding it harder and harder to concentrate on classwork. Because, you know, pregnant. Also, your mom was becoming less and less certain that she wanted the law degree in the first place. So, once you were born, she switched her major to English Lit, and the rest is history.”  
  
Taylor blinked. “Wow. That puts a few things in perspective.”  
  
He nodded. “It turned out well for us. But you should still be careful. Just in case. Because he might not be the type to marry you, just because you got pregnant to him.” He closed his eyes for a moment. “I do not believe that I just said that.”  
  
Taylor smiled. “It's okay, Dad. I know what you meant. And maybe one day we might get married. But for now we're just dating. And he's very nice, and I don't want anything to happen that shouldn't happen. So this is why I asked.”  
  
“And I'm glad you did, kiddo,” he told her. “Well, I'm not glad this whole topic has come up, but I'm glad you did bring it up, instead of sneaking behind my back.” His answering smile was a little weak, but it was there. “It's really hard for a man to face the fact that his baby girl is growing up.”  
  
She grinned. “Not grown up  _all_  the way, Dad, but getting there.” Standing up, she slung her bag over her shoulder. “Thanks for listening. Thanks for hearing me out.”  
  
“Thanks for talking to me,” he replied, and got up as well. He hugged her; she reciprocated. “Your mom would be proud of you.”  
  
She gave him an extra squeeze before letting go. “Thanks.”  
  
He glanced at his watch. “I've got to get to work, but if you want to talk more this afternoon -”  
  
“I'd love to,” she replied with a genuine smile. “See you then.”  
  
Giving her a quick kiss on the cheek, he grabbed his keys and headed out the door. She heard the car engine start, and then he was backing down the driveway.  
  
She had a little bit to go before she had to be at the bus stop, so she settled on to the sofa and pulled out her phone.  
  
 _Told Dad about us,_  she sent.  _He said OK to pill._  
  
The answer came back a few moments later.  _ **He wasnt mad?**_  
  
 _Little bit, but he got over it. Wants to meet you._  
  
 _ **Oh boy.**_  
  
 _Stop whining you big baby. Hes a teddy bear._  
  
 _ **All dads are. Until he meets the daughtes boyfriend then hes a grizzly bear.**_  
  
She chuckled out loud at that one.  _He promised not to hurt you._  
  
 _ **You promise to protect me?**_  
  
 _I said we were dating. Did not tell about sex._  
  
 _ **You may just have saved my life.**_  
  
 _< eyeroll> Big baby. Come around after school?_  
  
 _ **We may be a little late. Remember after school activity**_  
  
She remembered, and her eyes widened.  _Fuck yeah._  
  
 _ **See you at school.**_  
  
 _Bring condoms._  
  
 _ **Really?**_  
  
She flushed, but her fingers were steady as she typed out the answer.  _Really._  
  
 _ **Woo hoo.**_  
  
 _Still pissed at you, remember._  
  
 _ **Still sorry.**_  
  
 _You better be. Got to go. Time to catch bus._  
  
 _ **Later.**_  
  
Shutting down the phone, she got up, grabbed her bag, and went out the front door. Pulling it shut behind her, she started off down the street toward the bus stop.  
  


<><>

  
Emma Barnes prowled the hallways of Winslow. She was rattled, just a little off-balance, but she was determined not to show this to anyone, least of all her crowd of devoted followers. Madison had been suspended after her little show in Mr Gladly's class, and Mr Gladly himself was on paid suspension for some reason – the rumour going around was that he had ripped Madison's top off and molested her in the halls while escorting her to Principal Blackwell's office.  
  
Emma didn't know the truth to that one, but  _something_  had happened there. And then Sophia had been pulled from the school, after the PRT had been asking questions of everyone about whether they might think they'd been molested – even raped – by someone, or something, that  _they didn't remember_.  
  
The word about  _that_  had gotten around like wildfire. Quite a few girls just hadn't turned up to school today, and some of the boys too. Half a dozen girls had claimed, after the PRT had left, to have also been molested, and apparently their parents were going to be suing the school for letting it happen.  
  
“So what do you think really happened?” asked Julia, moving up alongside Emma.  
  
Emma looked over at her. She wasn't as pretty as Sophia or as cute as Madison, but she'd been Madison's co-conspirator in World Affairs, so that made her almost acceptable as a replacement until one or the other came back.  
  
“About what?” she asked, although she knew the answer.  
  
“To Madison,” Julia replied. “I mean, I was beside her. I saw her stand up and take her top off. She'd  _never_  do anything like that normally. Do you think Sophia was right? That she was being controlled or something?”  
  
“Controlled?” asked Emma. She hadn't heard  _that_  one.  
  
Julia blinked. “Ah. It was something she was talking about to me and Mads. What if that Stranger they were talking about was actually some kind of Master? Made people  _think_  they'd been molested. And if they could make people go somewhere and do something totally out of character?”  
  
Emma wrinkled her nose. “Sounds pretty far-fetched. Sex leaves DNA … “  
  
Julia nodded. “Someone said that they couldn't  _find_  any DNA on Sophia.” She shrugged. “Well, someone  _else_  said they found some, but then they put it down and when they looked for it, it wasn't there any more. But if they couldn't find any … “  
  
Emma shook her head. “A bit thin there, Jules. A Master making people think they'd been molested, but not being able to remember it?”  
  
“No, but here's the best bit,” Julia told her excitedly. “You know how they found Sophia in the boys' bathrooms?”  
  
Emma nodded.  _That_  rumour had many, some quite lurid, variations.  
  
“Well,” Julia told her, “she was actually going to see Blackwell. About Hebert. Because she was sure Hebert was showing off cape powers in Winslow. Tripping her, shoving us, making Madison take off her top, stuff like that. But she  _told_  Hebert what she was going to do … and lo and behold, she ended up in the boys' bathrooms, butt naked. What does  _that_  tell you?”  
  
Emma felt a chill go down her spine. “That Taylor's a … a  _cape?_  And that she's fucking with our heads?”  
  
Julia nodded enthusiastically. “Yeah!” She paused, and her expression crumbled. “Oh. Shit.”  
  
“Oh shit is right,” Emma told her. She had come to a halt. The three other girls with her, each of whom had overheard the conversation, glanced at her nervously, looking for an idea of what to do.  
  
“Okay,” she told them in a low tone. “We need to let people know what's going on. What Hebert's doing to people.”  
  
Two of the girls immediately pulled out their phones; Emma shot them a scathing glance. “Not without proof, you idiots!”  
  
As they shamefacedly put them away, Julia turned to Emma. “How, then?”  
  
Emma took a deep breath. “Okay, we're going to need a volunteer … “  
  


<><>

  
_Really,_  thought Brian.  _So they think I'm a Master too, huh?_  He grinned as he leaned against the wall, listening. Emma's plan sounded a little slapdash to him, but if he hadn't known about it, then it might well have even caught him.  
  
Of course, trying to make a plan to catch a Stranger ran the risk of that Stranger being right there in the room when you made the plan.  
  
“So you all know what you have to do?” Emma asked them.  
  
She got four nods back; the girls moved off.  
  
So did Brian.  
  


<><>

  
They found Hebert in the cafeteria, writing in a notebook of some sort. Emma hung back, near the door. “Go,” she hissed to Julia.  
  
As Julia moved off, Emma pulled out her phone. She fumbled with it for a moment, then clicked the button to turn it on. Nothing happened; the phone failed to light up. Frowning, she tried again. Again, no reaction.  
  
“The battery can't be dead  _already,_ ” she muttered. “I only charged it last night.”  
  
She fiddled with the phone; it was lifeless, a paperweight.  
  
Opening the back, she stared. The battery was gone. Then she looked again; no, it was there. Making sure it was properly seated, she closed the phone again, fumbling a little in the process, and hit the power-up button.  
  
Nothing.  
  
“ _Fuck,”_  she hissed. “Not  _now!”_  
  


<><>

  
Julia approached Hebert, who glanced up and closed the notebook. She watched Julia, not with any particular fear in her eyes, just wariness.  
  
“Help you?” she asked.  
  
“No,” Julia told her. “Just wanted to tell you that I know your game. I know what you did to Sophia.”  
  
Taylor blinked. “I did  _nothing_  to Sophia,” she objected.  
  
Julia ignored her words. “I'm going to Blackwell  _right now_  and telling her you're the cape, the Stranger, the Master, who's been screwing with people. She'll call the PRT and your ass will be fucking _history.”_  She hissed the last word with such venom that Hebert flinched.  
  
Julia had to hand it to the skinny girl, she knew how to hold on to the act. “But I didn't  _do_  any of that,” she protested again. “Something's happening, sure. But it's not  _me_  that's doing it.”  
  
“Tell that to the PRT,” Julia told her, and turned, walking away. Heading for the door. Carefully not looking at Emma, who would have filmed the whole thing, would be filming her now.  
  


<><>

  
Emma's phone was dead; there was no two ways about it. She had to warn Julia, warn her that the plan had to be aborted.  _Over a stupid dead phone battery_.  
  
As Julia walked past, Emma went to grab her by the sleeve, went to open her mouth to speak, but then she blinked, and everything changed. Everything was dark, and smelled musty.  
  
As her eyes adjusted to the gloom, she looked around.  
  
“Why am I standing in a broom closet?”  
  


<><>

  
Brian hustled ahead of Julia. The other three girls had been posted so as to film her going anywhere other than directly to Blackwell's office. She herself was filming her own progress – or had been, up until the point where Brian took her phone away.  
  
The first girl was coming up; Brian stepped in the way, walked between Julia and the girl with the camera. She didn't see  _him,_ because she kept forgetting his presence, instant by instant. However, his power didn't make him  _invisible_ , as he had explained to Taylor. The girl's brain edited him out, wrote something else in over the top. He was, effectively, one giant blind spot. So, just as she didn't see him, nor did she see Julia.  
  
Which left the question of what to do with the Julia, now that he had her. A few days ago, he would have taken her someplace quiet and fucked her brains out.  
  
 _Only I promised Taylor, no more having sex with girls all unaware. Well, I promised her that about Emma, but she really meant everyone. So I'm going to have to do something else._  
  


<><>

  
Taylor wasn't sure what to do. Julia's threat had sounded sincere. She had texted Brian, and he had answered with the somewhat cryptic  _All OK._  
  
 _Will Blackwell call the PRT or just expel me? **Can**  the PRT check for powers? If they come and get me, do I tell them I have bug powers, or say nothing?_  
  
In the end, she decided to sit tight and do nothing for the moment. However, no sooner had she made this decision than Emma came stomping over to her table. Trailing in her wake were three girls who Taylor vaguely recognised as being part of her clique.  
  
"What the hell have you done to her?" hissed Emma.  
  
Taylor frowned. "Done to who?"  
  
"Julia!" shouted Emma, and heads turned. "You  _did_  something to her!"  
  
"Julia  _spoke_  to me, sure," Taylor confirmed. "But then she went away. Have you checked the principal's office?"  
  
"No, I -" began Emma, and then Taylor's phone beeped, indicating an incoming text message.  
  
Ignoring Emma, she pulled it out and opened the message.  
  
 _Awesome prank. Is Emma freaking yet? - Jules_  
  
Taylor grinned, putting the pieces together. She turned the phone to show Emma the message. “So how's it feel to be owned?” she asked sweetly.  
  
Emma read the text; her face when red and then white. “I don't fucking -” she began, but then the bell rang for home room.  
  
Taylor got up, slinging her bag on her shoulder. "I have no idea what your delusion is," she told Emma boldly, "but I've been sitting here all this time. So why don't you just fuck off and leave me alone."  
  
Emma stared, her jaw dropping, as Taylor walked out of the cafeteria, head high.  
  


<><>

  
Julia sat on the bus, her bag on her lap, looking vaguely out the window. The doors closed with a hiss and a clack, and the bus lurched into motion. The passing scenery bothered her somehow; she was halfway to the next stop before she realised what it was.  
  
 _This isn't my bus._  
  
The next thought took a few seconds more to surface.  
  
 _Why am I **on**  the bus?_  
  
When the answer clicked into focus, her reaction was perhaps understandable.  
  
"Fuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuck!"  
  
Unfortunately, this also got her removed from the bus.  
  
Swearing under her breath, she started hiking back toward Winslow.  
  


<><>

  
Home room passed pleasantly enough, but then it was time for first period. Which, on Wednesdays, for Taylor, was World Affairs. She arrived at the classroom to find no teacher in evidence, although the classroom doors were unlocked. Apart from her, there was half a dozen girls, none of whom she knew very well. Most of the boys in the class were still there, but none of them seemed to know what was going on.  
  
A discussion started up after they'd been in the classroom for about five minutes. She kept out of it, but paid attention.  
  
"Gladly's late."  
  
"Didn't you hear? Mr G's been fired."  
  
"No, no, he's just been suspended until they find out what's been happening."  
  
"I heard he was caught fucking Madison in the boys' bathrooms."  
  
"No, that was Sophia Hess."  
  
"Mr G fucked  _Sophia?_ Fucking hell."  
  
"No, he didn't fuck her, you dweeb. She was the one in the boys' bathroom."  
  
"Don't call me a dweeb, you doink. If it wasn't the boys' bathrooms, where was he caught fucking her?"  
  
"Fuck you, cum-breath. G didn't fuck Madison at all."  
  
"So who fucked her?"  
  
"I'm not saying  _anyone_  fucked her!"  
  
" _Someone_  did," Greg put in. "I saw when he found her. She had cum all over her. Like, coated in it."  
  
"So it  _was_  him who fucked her."  
  
"No, douchenozzle! If you'd fucking bother to attend class once in a fucking while, you'd have known that he told her to go into the stock room to put her top back on -"  
  
"Wait, why the fuck was it off?"  
  
Greg had to put his oar in again. "I heard her say to Julia, 'Hey, watch this.' Then she stood up in class and just took off her top and bra."  
  
"Why the fuck would she do that?"  
  
"Fucked if I know. But we all saw her tits."  
  
“Fuck! I am never skipping class again.”  
  
“Hey, wasn't Julia supposed to be here as well? I saw her come in this morning.”  
  
One of the girls looked at Taylor. “Emma said in the cafe just before the bell that Taylor did something to her.”  
  
Taylor shrugged. “Emma's got her head up her ass. Julia wanted to prank her, so she came in, talked to me for a minute, then headed out. She just texted me before, see?” She held out her phone.  
  
Three of the boys and two of the girls looked at the text, and burst out laughing. “Fuck, Emma must be livid,” one of the boys commented.  
  
Taylor shrugged again. “I really don't give a shit.”  
  
Conversation waned, then one of the boys looked around. “You know something? I think they cancelled this class, and didn't bother telling anyone. So what say we go do something more interesting?”  
  
No-one disagreed; in ones and twos, the students left the classroom. Twice, Taylor went to get up, but found herself sitting down again.  _Okay, let's see what's going on here._  
  
Greg looked around as he stood at the door. “Taylor, you want to come with?”  
  
She shook her head. “Nah. Think I'll stay and catch up on my homework.”  
  
He shrugged. “Suit yourself.”  
  
The door closed behind him, and suddenly Brian was in the classroom, standing next to her. She stood up, her arms going around him. Her lips met his, and he held her tight as they kissed.  
  
She did not speak, and nor did he. Her hands slid under the hem of his t-shirt, and up over the ridged muscles of his torso. He got the hint; dropping his coat to the floor, he peeled the shirt off over his head.  
  
She unzipped her hoodie and took it off, then removed her own t-shirt. She hadn't bothered to put on a bra after the shower, so her small breasts were as bare as his chest. In the cool air of the classroom, her small nipples stood proudly outward; she shivered slightly, whether from the cool air or from his overwhelming presence, she wasn't sure.  
  
Slowly, carefully, he reached out to cup her breasts with his hands. She waited until he had almost reached his goal, then slapped him hard, across the face.  
  
“Ow.” He put his hand where she had slapped him. “What was that for?”  
  
“To remind you that I'm still pissed as hell at you.” She reached up behind his head, pulled his face down toward hers, and kissed him again; he responded enthusiastically. “Just so you don't forget.”  
  
“I'm not likely to, no,” he agreed. Falling to one knee, he pulled her toward him and they lay down together on the worn carpeting. She rolled on to her back, moaning softly as he encircled her nipple with his lips, flicking it with his tongue. Her back arched as she smoothed her hands down over her stomach.  
  
Slowly, he worked his way down her stomach, kissing and licking all the way, eliciting soft breathy gasps from her lips, until he reached her jeans. She felt him undo them, then the zipper opened, and she lifted her hips to allow him to slide them off her body. A touch of cool air told her that her panties were going with them; not that she cared much at this point.  
  
He paused to pull her sneakers off, then removed her jeans altogether. Nibbling and biting at the inside of her thighs – an action that nearly sent her through the ceiling with sheer pleasure – he closed in on her soft, moist centre.  
  
Thighs parted invitingly, she arched her back again and again as he licked and lapped at her tender young vaginal opening. Her juices flowed as her labia swelled and her thighs fell open even farther. She felt his tongue flicking over her clitoris, and she climaxed then and there. A finger slid into her, parting her arousal-slick folds, and she bit her lip, squeezing her own breasts together in sheer lust.  
  
And then he was lying alongside her, as naked as she was, his turgid erection jutting proudly from his hips. She kissed him, running her hands over his body, most especially that part of him that was most excited.  
  
“Do you want me to … suck it?” she asked hesitantly. She only had the vaguest idea of how that was done; the penis went into the mouth, she was sure, but beyond that, nothing.  
  
“Better not,” he replied. “If you're too good at it, my powers come on, and you don't even know what you're doing.” He kissed her again, caressing her body, causing her to draw in her breath with a sharp hiss. “Do you want to make love, now?”  
  
She bit his lip. “Put on a condom and I'll think about it,” she told him teasingly.  
  
“Pants pocket.” He nodded toward his discarded jeans.  
  
Scrambling over his naked body – which was another turn-on for both of them – she retrieved the box and returned. Opening it, she pulled out the sheet of foil packages, ripped one off, then returned the rest to the box. Then she tore open the packet itself, to reveal the condom.  
  
“Want to put it on me?” he murmured.  
  
“I – I've never done that before,” she replied.  
  
He kissed her gently, lovingly. His hand caressed her breast, squeezed softly. “Just roll it on. They're made for guys who are about to get some to work – it's not that difficult.”  
  
She dubiously eyed the rolled up prophylactic, then his massively erect cock. “If it fits.”  
  
He grinned. “It'll fit.”  
  
Slowly, she approached the task. She was finding that every moment she spent next to his naked body aroused her even more. His hands on her just made the arousal all the sharper.  
  
Lowering her head, she opened her mouth and let his penis slide between her lips. He grunted and his head fell back as she tasted the salty precum oozing from the top of his cock; the very touch of her lips made his erection jolt upward.  
  
“Mmm,” she murmured, and took her mouth away, then laid the rolled-up condom on the thick head of his penis. Gently, carefully, she rolled it down along his length. When she was finished, his erection was covered from blunt head to the very base. And she so wanted him inside her.  
  
But instead of getting up and climbing between her thighs, he lay back, proud member jutting ceiling-wards. “Want to be on top, this time?” he murmured.  
  
She swallowed. To be above him, taking that shaft inside her, impaling herself upon it …  _he_ was letting  _her_  take charge this time.  
  
Shivering with the intensity of her arousal, she climbed aboard, straddling him. He helped her kneel upward, and carefully placed the head of his rigid penis between her thighs, resting against the thoroughly lubricated entrance to her tight young pussy.  
  
“Now bear down,” he instructed her softly.  
  
She obeyed, feeling him penetrate her, spreading her labia, stretching her vaginal canal. It felt  _wonderful._ Lifting up again, she slid up and down along the first few inches of his erection, eliciting a groan from deep in his chest. “Oh god, you're killing me.”  
  
Biting her lip, she pushed down a little farther, introducing a bit more of his amazing penis into her vagina. His hands twitched, as if he wanted to grab her hips and pull her down on to him, but he restrained himself.  
  
Reaching down, she rubbed at her clitoris, sending waves of pleasure through her body. She pushed downward, sliding farther on to him, groaning at the sensations. He echoed her groans, running his hands over her body, cupping and squeezing her breasts and buttocks. In turn, she ran her hand over his chest, over his abdomen, feeling the hard muscle, rippling under her touch.  
  
“Evil woman,” he gasped. “Killing me.”  
  
She smirked, and let herself slide all the way down on to him. It was a shock; how deeply he was penetrating into her, how he stretched her, how his length throbbed inside her. She rubbed at herself again as she moved upward and down again on him, impaling herself over and over again. Her head fell back and she cried out as she came, her vaginal canal clenching around his latex-clad cock.  
  
Leaning down, she kissed him, her lips melding to his, her tongue duelling with his. Rocking her hips back and forth, she felt his penis moving deep within her, sending pleasure sparking throughout her body. And then she lay down upon him.  
  
“Roll over,” she murmured. He rolled, holding her body, his cock still buried deep between her labia, until she was on her back, and he was between her thighs. Lifting her legs, she wrapped them around his hips, and kissed him hard, biting his lip.  
  
“I've teased you enough,” she breathed. “Take your revenge.”  
  
He started to thrust into her; gently at first, then harder and harder. She moaned and gasped and dug her nails into his back; it wasn't long before he drove her into another climax, and another … and then nothing.  
  
She blinked, coming to, as he slowly withdrew his softening cock from between her tender labia. Pleasure still thrilled through her body, making every part of her tingle.  
  
“Oh, fuck, wow,” she murmured. “Was it good for you?”  
  
He grinned and kissed her; he was panting as though he had run a marathon. “We have  _got_  to do it that way more often,” he told her. “You were blowing my mind even before we rolled over, but the anticipation …” Reaching down, he carefully pulled the condom from his flaccid member. There seemed, to Taylor's untutored eye, to be a remarkable amount of white fluid in the end of it.  
  
“Well, I'm glad that's in there, and not in me,” she observed with a giggle. “That looks like it could get the whole school pregnant, with some left over for Arcadia.”  
  
He snorted, tying a knot in the condom. “I'm good, but I'm not that good.”  
  
She kissed him, running her hand over his chest. “Thank you for that. It was really, really … god, I don't know. How  _do_  you describe sex anyway? Mindblowing?”  
  
“For a start, yeah,” he agreed. “That was all of that.”  
  
“Also, how come the classroom was unlocked?” she queried. “Did you have something to do with that?”  
  
“I may,” he explained with a grin, “have lifted a set of keys from the office. There was a notice on the door, saying the class was cancelled, so I took it down and unlocked the room. That way, I knew where to find you.”  
  
“Which reminds me,” she remarked. “What  _did_  you do with Julia?” Her feather touch on his chest had turned to nails lightly raking his skin.  
  
He chuckled. “I put her on the bus. She'll be a little while getting back.”  
  
“And sent the text?” she asked.  
  
“Yeah,” he replied, with a grin. “I took her phone first.”  
  
She snuggled up against him, kissing his throat and chest. “You're mean and nasty, but I'm glad you didn't rape her too.”  
  
His arm was around her. “You told me not to.”  
  
She raised her head and kissed his lips. “You could have done, and I would never have known.”  
  
He kissed her back. “But  _I_  would have.”  
  
She laid her head on his chest. “Why is it the nicest guy I've ever met is someone who sneaks into a high school to rape the girls there?”  
  
“Used to,” Brian pointed out. “Past tense. Now I sneak into a high school to make love with a girl I'm very attracted to.”  
  
“But my point still stands,” she noted. “Why did you even pick Winslow, anyway?”  
  
“Well, it wasn't my first pick,” he explained. “Originally, I set my sights somewhat higher. You see, I had gotten a severe case of attraction toward Miss Militia … “  
  
 _[A/N: see previous chapter]_  
  
By the time he finished telling the story, she was weak with laughter. Tears were leaking out of her eyes as she lay across his chest, still giggling.  
  
“Oh god … oh god,” she gasped. “That's the funniest thing I've ever heard.”  
  
“It's not  _that_  funny,” he protested, slightly nettled.  
  
She nodded vigorously. “Oh, yes it is.”  
  
It was getting close to the end of the period, so they started getting dressed again, although Taylor was still giggling occasionally. Once they were again clothed, Taylor stood on her tiptoes and kissed him thoroughly; his arms around her felt strong and protective.  
  
“See you at lunchtime in the girls' bathroom,” she murmured.  
  
He kissed her back, feeling himself swell inside his pants at the implied promise.  
  
 _Oh. Yeah._


	8. Dealing with Emma

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> When Brian learns of a plot against Taylor, he has to resort to extreme means to deal with it ...

Taylor waited in the toilet stall until the last of the other girls left.  _Brian should be here soon._  And then came the gentle knock; she opened the door and stepped out. There was no-one there; she turned around, searching. “Brian?”  
  
The feather-light touch on the back of her neck made her shiver, and she turned once more; Brian was standing there, a smile on his face. She smiled back, and stood on her tiptoes to kiss him.  
  
“Hey, you,” she murmured.  
  
“Hey, you,” he replied, just as softly.  
  
She ran her hands up under his t-shirt, feeling the rippling abs that made up his amazing musculature. His hands ran over her back, his strong fingers finding their way down her spine, even through two layers of clothing. It reminded her of how he held her when they made love, and another shiver went down her spine, one that reminded her how much she wanted him.  
  
She kissed him again, more urgently. His hands slid up under her hoodie, her t-shirt, and cupped her bra-free breasts. She could feel his thumbs and fingers doing amazing things to her nipples.  
  
She went to kiss him a third time – and the door to the corridor banged open.  
  
Turning to face the door, she smoothed down her hoodie and stared at the person who had just entered. “Emma?”  
  


<><>

  
_I knew I'd find her here._  
  
Emma sneered at Taylor; as she'd entered, she'd seen the girl turn around guiltily, as if she was hiding something.  
  
_Of course she's hiding something. She's a fucking **cape**._  
  
She couldn't get her head around that fact. Hebert was a  _cape?_  In what twisted universe did people like  _Hebert_  get powers, and still act like the same old, wimpy, weak Taylor that she and Sophia had ground into the dirt so many times?  
  
“Yeah, me,” Emma told her. She stepped aside, so that Julia could enter, along with half a dozen of Emma's more loyal hangers-on. “And I brought friends.”  
  
Taylor tilted her head slightly. “What, you need your hand held to go to the bathroom these days?”  
  
Emma ground her teeth. Faced with eight to one odds, Taylor was choosing to be a smartass, instead of crumbling like she should.  
  
Like Emma had expected her to.  
  
She began to wonder if she had committed an error here, if she had miscalculated. But no, Sophia wouldn't back down now, and nor would she.  
  
“I'm not sure what you did, earlier, or how you did it,” Emma told her, “but you made Julia get on the damn bus. Who knows where she would've gotten off if your power hadn't worn off in time.” She stepped forward. “And you made  _me_  get into a broom closet.”  
  
Taylor shook her head. “Emma, you're making a terrible mistake.”  
  
Emma showed her teeth in what might have been a smile. “You're the one who made the mistake. I'm betting you can't control more than one or two people at a time. Control one of us, the rest of us will beat you to a pulp.”  
  
“Listen to me,” Taylor snapped. “Either you're right or you're wrong. Either I'm a Master or I'm not. If I'm not … then you've got no reason to come after me. But if I am … if I'm a dangerous cape … then what the  _fuck_  are you doing, confronting me like this?”  
  
“Like I said,” Emma told her. “If you can't control more than one or two people at a time, then you're screwed when a lot of people come after you. And if you treat people like you treated Madison and Sophia, then you're a villain. And you don't deserve to be at Winslow.”  
  
“Fuck this,” muttered Julia. “Hebert, I just walked three fucking miles, in heels, because of  _you.”_  She lunged forward, and swung her fist.  
  


<><>

  
Brian saw it coming; he pulled Taylor out of the way, a fraction of a second before the punch would have landed. The girl's hand impacted with the tile wall, and he clearly heard the popping sound of fracturing bones.  
  
“Ow!” screamed the girl, clutching her stricken limb and staggering backward. “Ow! Fuck! Ow! My fucking hand!”  
  
“You all saw it,” Taylor told the others. “I didn't touch her. She tried to hit me.”  
  
The attractive blonde called Emma shook her head and curled her lip. “Or you Mastered her into hurting herself.”  
  
Taylor rolled her eyes. “Oh, for  _fuck's_  sake. Was I supposed to stand still and get hit?”  
  
“That would be a good start, yeah,” Emma snapped. She delved into her purse, and came out with a canister of pepper spray. “You're too dangerous. I'm going to be making a citizen's arrest just as soon as you're disabled.”  
  
Brian sighed. As Emma brought the pepper spray up, he plucked it from her fingers. A quick spray went into her eyes, then into the face of everyone else in her group. Then, as she began to fold, he tucked it into her hand again, wrong way around.  
  


<><>

  
As Emma and her cronies crumpled to the ground, screaming and clawing at their eyes, Brian appeared beside Taylor. “Let's get out of here,” he suggested, handing her pack to her. “Pull your hoodie over your head, and hold your breath.”  
  
Following his advice, she sidled out past the still-hanging cloud of pepper spray, and made it outside without suffering anything worse than a slight tickling in the corners of her eyes. The shrill screams from within the bathroom were music to her ears, but she had a concern. “Brian?”  
  
And suddenly he was beside her, as if he'd always been there. “Yeah?”  
  
“Do you think she'll recover in time to do the cheerleader thing?”  
  
Brian shrugged. “If not this time, then another time. Or I could, you know, just have sex with her and leave her someplace embarrassing.”  
  
She shook her head firmly. “From here on in, I'm the only one you have sex with.  _I_ am your go-to girl for sexual release. Do you understand?”  
  
He grinned, cupping her cheek in his hand. “It's a big job,” he murmured.  
  
She reached up, pulling his head down so that she could kiss him firmly. “Which is why I'm not leaving it to anyone else.”  
  
“Okay,” he agreed, kissing her again. “So, are you still up for … ?”  
  
She leaned against him, hooking her arm through his. “What do  _you_  think?”  
  
“So where should we do it?”  
  
The look in her eyes was wicked. “I have an idea.”  
  


<><>

  
“I can't – believe you – were game – for this,” panted Brian, holding Taylor's hips and thrusting strongly into her.  
  
Taylor, on her back with her ankles on his shoulders, grunted with every thrust. “Just – fuck – me,” she grunted. “Oh god, oh god, oh god, yes!” Her back arched with the intensity of her orgasm, and her arm swept a pen-holder off the desk she was lying on.  
  
Brian redoubled his efforts; Taylor's eyes rolled back, and her unconscious brain decided to just go along with whatever was happening to her. Several more climaxes racked her body before he finally let go into the condom that she had so lovingly rolled on to his erection; she eased back to awareness, just about the time that he was pulling out of her.  
  
“Oh, wow,” she murmured, sitting up on the edge of the desk. “Wow, that feels so damn good.”  
  
Brian nodded. “Good,” he told her quietly, pulling his jeans up. “Great. Now get dressed. We still have to get out of here.”  
  
“Okay,  _fine,”_  she murmured playfully. Sliding off the desk, she stepped into her panties and jeans. Her hoodie had just been pushed up to reveal her breasts, so she pulled it down again.  
  
Approaching voices made them both go quiet; Brian let his power go free, and then picked up Taylor in his arms. Holding her close to his body, he eased out past the woman entering the office, through the outer door, and then into the corridor. Once they were well away, he put her down and relaxed his power.  
  


<><>

  
Carrie Blackwell stared at the mess that had been made of her office, and especially her desk.  
  
“What the hell's been going on here?” she demanded out loud, then sniffed the air.  
  
_If I didn't know better,_  she told herself,  _I'd think someone's been screwing on my desk._  
  
_Come to think of it, Gladly **did**  sneak off with that new temp art teacher … _  
  
She drew a deep breath. “Gladly!”  
  


<><>

  
Taylor blinked and looked around. “What just happened?”  
  
“We were out of time, so I carried you out of the office,” Brian explained. “If you'd tried to sneak out on your own, you would've been caught.”  
  
She hugged his arm to her. “But we weren't. We fucked on  _Blackwell's desk_ , and got away with it.” Her giggle was infectious, and full of exhilaration. “That was fucking  _epic.”_  
  
“Well, it  _was_  pretty damn good,” he admitted. “I kinda wish I'd done that before, when I was in high school.” He bent a stern look on her. “We don't do that again, all right?”  
  
She sighed. “I know, I know. But bathrooms are public places, and classrooms have the risk of people walking in, or just looking in through the door, and it's all uncomfortable. Where can we have sex in school where it's actually comfortable?”  
  
“Well, if you  _want_ , I could bring in an inflatable mattress,” he suggested cheerfully. “Or, you know, we could have more sex  _outside_  of school.”  
  
“I know,” she agreed. “But outside of school is basically home stuff or Undersiders stuff. Nothing really in between.”  
  
“True,” he conceded.  
  
“And I don't  _quite_  think that Dad's ready for me to bring you home to go upstairs for a spot of sex,” she went on.  
  
“Yeah, fuck that,” Brian agreed fervently.  
  
“And while I  _suppose_  we could have sex in the loft,” she mused, “Lisa would know straight away. And she'd tease us. And it might give the team a weird vibe.”  
  
“Lisa  _did_  know straight away,” Brian told her morosely. “She wouldn't let up until she guilted me into telling you.”  
  


<><>

  
The words hung in the air, and Brian wished that he could unsay them, that he could take them back, figure out how to say them better. But it was too late. Taylor's gaze had swung on to him like twin lasers. “So it  _wasn't_  your idea to come to me,” she stated, her voice low and deadly.  
  
_Oh shit._  
  
“I – I had no idea what to do,” he confessed. “I didn't want to hurt you, but I didn't want to stop, and I didn't want to tell you and lose you. It was Lisa who pushed me into making a decision.”  
  
She jabbed him in the chest with two fingers. “So it was  _Lisa_  being noble, not you.”  
  
“I – I did come to you, didn't I?” he responded. “I told you everything.”  
  
“Except that it wasn't your idea to come to me in the first place,” she snapped back. “All of this looks a lot better if you don't know  _that_  little tidbit.” She jabbed him in the chest again. “And all so you can keep having guilt-free sex.”  
  
He grabbed her wrist before she could jab him again. “Taylor. I  _feel_  guilt over what I've done. If I didn't, I wouldn't have cared. But I do. I feel something for you, personally, between me and you.”  
  
Her expression hardened. “You  _raped_  me. Then you came to me and confessed, and now I find out that you were  _guilted_  into confessing?” She shook her head, tears in her eyes. “I thought I knew you. I thought you were a good guy. I thought you were someone I could  _trust_. I was wrong.”  
  
“Taylor -” he began.  
  
“No.” She shook her head. “I get that you did come to me and confess, and I get that you might feel some sort of guilt for what you did. Though that's probably really easy to deal with, given that I'm regularly having sex with you  _anyway.”_  
  
“Then what -” he began.  
  
“What I'm having trouble with,” she overrode him, “is that you didn't formulate the idea to come to me and confess on your own. If Lisa hadn't pressured you, you'd still be dithering. You'd still be trying to decide which way to go.” She stared him in the eyes. “You'd still be coming to Winslow and raping teenage girls to get your rocks off.”  
  
He hung his head. She wasn't wrong.  
  
“What I've got to figure out now,” she went on, in a quieter tone of voice, “is where I stand with that. Do I decide that you're a waste of space and time, and move on? Do I quit the team? Do I keep on as if nothing's happened? Do I even accept what you did, why you did it, and keep up what we have, as if it's an actual relationship between two people who care for each other?”  
  
“Taylor, I -” he began.  
  
She shook her head. “I need time to think this through.”  
  
“Sure,” he told her with a shrug. “Take all the time you need.”  
  
She eyed him askance. “And then you say something like that, and make me doubt that you're so bad after all. No, I've got to decide whether I want you in my life, and how far into my life I'm going to let you come.”  
  
“So … I'm on hold, am I?” he asked, doing his best to keep his voice dead level. “I'm to wait until you make your decision about us, and tell me what it is?”  
  
Some minor part of the unhappiness he felt must have leaked through. “Right now, there is no 'we', no 'us',” she told him flatly. “I'm dissolving it. It's done. If I decide that we still have a chance, later, we'll talk about what that'll entail, then. Until then, you're a free man.”  
  
“Fuck,” he muttered.  
  
“Yes, exactly,” she agreed dryly. “You fucked me, and then you fucked up. Well, cheer up. You're a free agent now. Until I tell you otherwise, you've got no obligations toward me. Feel free to go to hell in whatever inventive way you decide upon.”  
  
He drew a deep breath. “Taylor. My needs.”  
  
“What about them?” she snapped.  
  
“I didn't want to have to bring this up,” he forged on desperately, “but  _you're_  the one I want to be with, to have sex with. If you're not there, what do I do?”  
  
She got really close to him then. Grabbing the front of his jacket, she put her face inches from his.  _“I don't fucking care,”_  she snarled. “Just leave me the fuck out of it.”  
  
She kissed him then, hard and unyielding rather than soft and compliant. An angry kiss.  
  
A goodbye kiss.  
  


<><>

  
Pushing him backward, she stomped away down the corridor, trying not to let him see the tears in her eyes. Her mind was full of turmoil; she didn't know what to think. He was such a gentle lover, so strong, so sexual, so … so  _Brian._  What she had done with him, how they had had sex, the pleasures she had felt, was totally out of her experience.  
  
But before that …  _he raped me._  He had taken her virginity, had forcibly had sex with her, without her knowledge or consent. She could have gotten pregnant without ever knowing how.  
  
And then there was Madison and Sophia. Both of them had been fucked by Brian, and he had made no attempt at preventing them from falling pregnant. He had raped them both … on  _her_  account? She didn't know how she felt about that.  
  
But then he had come clean, come to her, told her the truth. She had thought he was being so noble, turning over a new leaf. It had been so liberating, knowing that she was no longer a virgin, that she _could_  have sex, with a lover who was considerate and kind, and to whom she was seriously attracted. And who liked her.  
  
She had been falling for him, so hard.  
  
And now … this. The revelation.  _Lisa guilted him into telling me._  
  
So his attraction to her  _hadn't_  been enough to make him come clean. If Lisa hadn't pushed him, he'd still be sneaking into Winslow and using her as a sex toy.  
  
_I don't know whether to hate him forever or go back and tell him I love him._  
  
Every second, she expected to feel his hand on her shoulder. To feel his strong arms go around her. And if he did, if he came after her, she would hold him forever. Because there were only so many times that she could push him away before she forgave all sins.  
  
But he didn't.  
  
When she glanced over her shoulder, he was no longer there.  
  
The bell went. Taylor headed to class.  
  


<><>

  
Brian followed Taylor along the corridor. He didn't know what else to do.  
  
_It was all going so well, and then I had to go and say that. Fuck._  
  
_What the fuck do I do now?_  
  
He tried to think it through. Taylor wanted nothing more to do with him, at least until she had worked out in her own head what she wanted.  
  
_Maybe I should talk to Lisa._  
  
He shuddered.  _Fuck, no._  She'd done enough damage already.  
  
Just watching Taylor walking, her long legs eating up the distance, her taut buttocks moving under her jeans, those buttocks that he had been so recently squeezing in his hands … he felt his erection stirring in his pants once more. For just a moment, he had the impulse to pull her into an unattended classroom and have sex with her.  _Just like old times._  But his common sense prevailed.  _No. I'm in the shit already. I can't make it any worse. I really can't._  
  
_She's cut me loose. Free of all obligations. I can do anything I want, so long as it's not with her._  
  
_But I **want**  to be with her._  
  
_Fuck._  
  


<><>

  
“Open your textbooks to page one hundred and thirty-two,” droned Mr Quinlan. Taylor opened her textbook. Part of her mind was attuned to any odd sensations; a phantom touch to her hair, a squeeze of her breast under her hoodie, a kiss on the cheek. Anything that told her that Brian was still there.  
  
She didn't know whether she wanted him to be there or not. Part of her waited to berate him if he revealed himself;  _I told you to leave me alone._  Another part of him wanted to be angry at him for not being there. Yet another part recognised that she wasn't being fair, but it was shouted down by the other two.  
  
Mr Quinlan was writing on the board, the chalk squeaking unpleasantly, when the announcement came over the antiquated PA system.  
  
“ _Taylor Hebert, please report to the principal's office … Taylor Hebert, please report to the principal's office … “_  
  
She sighed. “Oh fuck.”  
  
Quinlan turned around and peered vaguely at her as she stood up and slung her bag over her shoulder. “Miss Hebert?”  
  
She shook her head. “I don't think I'll be back, sir.”  
  
Just as vaguely, he nodded. “All right.”  
  
She pushed her way out of the classroom, closing the door behind her. For just a moment, she was tempted to turn left instead of right, to walk out of the school and never return. There was just too much shit building up.  
  
But she turned right, and started the trek toward Blackwell's office. Where she'd so recently had sex on the desk. As soon as the thought occurred to her, she tried to repress it.  _Did I leave something behind … no. It'll be about Emma._  
  
_Fucking Emma._  
  
“And this is your fault, too,” she stated out loud, not caring if Brian was nearby or not. “If you hadn't interfered, Emma wouldn't have come after me like that, and this shit wouldn't be happening.”  
  
The fact that the bullying  _had_  happened, and would continue to happen, Brian notwithstanding, was one she carefully ignored. Right at that moment, she was nursing her righteous anger, and mere facts would only get in the way.  
  


<><>

  
“Miss Hebert.” Principal Blackwell looked over her glasses at Taylor.  
  
Brian leaned on the doorframe, noting that the mess they'd left behind had been cleaned up. He also noted that Taylor kept glancing at the spot where she'd been lying when he had made love to her. It had been her idea to fuck on the principal's desk, and she'd been right; it was a huge turn-on.  
  
“Yes, Principal Blackwell?” asked Taylor meekly.  
  
“Do you know why you're here?” asked the principal severely.  
  
Taylor took a deep breath. “Would it have anything to do with how Emma and some of her friends attacked me in the bathroom earlier?”  
  
Blackwell pursed her lips. “They say you attacked them. They are in the infirmary right now; Julia Morrow has two broken bones in her hand, and a fractured wrist. All of them are suffering from partial blindness and respiratory distress, due to pepper spray exposure. They say you did it.”  
  
Taylor frowned. “How am I supposed to have broken Julia's wrist? She tried to punch me, and I ducked.”  
  
Blackwell cleared her throat. “According to Emma Barnes, you encountered them in the bathroom, sprayed them all with pepper spray, then took Julia Morrow and rammed her hand into the wall so as to break it.”  
  
Taylor spread her hands. “But  _why?_  Why would I  _do_  that? And anyway, do I get a chance to tell my side of it?”  
  
A curt nod. “Speak.”  
  
“I was in the bathroom,” Taylor told her. “Emma and her friends came in. Julia tried to hit me; I ducked. She punched the wall and broke her hand. Emma pulled out pepper spray, but she got it the wrong way around and sprayed herself as well as her friends. I ran away.”  
  
“And you didn't think to report this?” asked Blackwell. “To call for help for them?”  
  
“What, like I've tried to report  _every_  other time I've been victimised by Emma and her friends?” Taylor's voice held a level of bitterness that Brian had rarely heard. “They always turn it around on me. Every time. Like this time. I was the  _victim_  here. And what do you know, I'm being fucking  _blamed_  for it.”  
  
“Language, Miss Hebert,” Blackwell told her sternly. “And kindly moderate your tone; it is not helping your case.”  
  
“ _Nothing_  helps my case,” Taylor told her flatly. “Anyway, I've got proof that it wasn't my pepper spray canister.”  
  
Blackwell tilted her head. “Really?”  
  
Taylor nodded. “Because I've got mine, right here.” She reached into her pocket and produced it. “See? And if you check it, it's full. Hasn't been used.”  
  
Blackwell's lips thinned. “Carrying one of those in school is an offence, Miss Hebert. I'm going to have to ask you to hand it over.”  
  
“Oh,  _come on!”_  Taylor yelled, apparently pushed beyond her limits.  _“Emma_  had one!”  
  
“She says it was yours,” Blackwell told her. “There is nothing to say you didn't have two.” She extended her hand. “Give it to me, now.”  
  
“And if I don't?” retorted Taylor.  
  
“I will be forced to ask you to leave Winslow, or I will call the police,” Blackwell shot back. “You may not carry a dangerous item like that on school grounds.”  
  
Taylor rolled her eyes. “This is  _Winslow,”_  she reminded the principal. “Kids carry  _knives_  here.”  
  
“If we see them, we confiscate them,” Blackwell responded. “The pepper spray, now.”  
  
_And I bet you work really hard not to see them, too,_  Brian mused. Stepping forward, he plucked the pepper spray from Taylor's fingers and slid it back into her pocket.  
  
There was a momentary pause, as Blackwell's brain obviously sought to bridge over what had just happened. “... right, yes,” she noted. “On the matter of your attacking Miss Barnes and her friends … “  
  
“But I  _didn't,”_  Taylor insisted.  
  
“Look,” Blackwell told her. “I'm a reasonable woman. I will accept that what happened to Julia Morrow's hand was probably on her. But if you then pepper-sprayed them and left, that's a serious assault charge.”  
  
“Except that  _I didn't do it,”_  Taylor reiterated.  
  
The principal pinched the bridge of her nose. “We're going around in circles here. Unless I am given hard evidence that you did not indeed attack the other girls, I'm going to accept their story. You can finish class for today, but you'll be going on a two-week suspension starting tomorrow. In the meantime, I will be talking to the other girls and seeing if they intend to bring criminal charges against you.”  
  
Taylor shook her head violently. “No. No way. That's not fair.  _They_  attacked  _me,_  and  _I'm_  being blamed?”  
  
“The evidence and what they told me -” began Blackwell, but Brian had heard enough. He moved around behind Blackwell and began to unbutton her blouse. She didn't notice, even when he moved her arms to remove it from her. Then he undid her bra.  
  
“ - is conclusive enough for me,” concluded the principal, all unaware of what was happening. Brian dropped the clothing into a desk drawer and stepped back.  
  
“Uh, Principal Blackwell … “ ventured Taylor. “Why have you taken your clothes off?”  
  
Blackwell looked down at herself, then shrieked and covered herself with her arms. “What?” she blurted. “How?”  
  
“Uh, Principal Blackwell … “ asked Taylor.  
  
“Get to class,” Blackwell snapped, her face flushing crimson. “And close the door.”  
  
“Yes, ma'am,” Taylor agreed, standing up at once.  
  
Brian considered staying, and having sex with Blackwell on her desk, but decided not to add insult to injury. He followed Taylor out; in the corridor, she looked around. “Are you there?”  
  
He showed himself to her.  
  
She jabbed him in the chest. “Well, at least you aren't in there fucking her,” she growled. “But leave me alone. I can handle my own problems.”  
  
“Even if I'm the reason you've got the problem in the first place?” he pointed out reasonably.  
  
She pressed her lips together. “ … just go away. Don't follow me around. All right?”  
  
"All right," he agreed. "By the way, your pepper spray is in your pocket."  
  
She looked down, and then felt her pocket. "Oh," she replied. "Thanks, I guess."  
  
“See you at the loft, then?” he asked hopefully.  
  
A sharp, curt nod. “I owe the others that much. The loft. Stay away from me until then.”  
  
He nodded in return. “Okay.”  
  
She stomped away, apparently just as angry as before. He shrugged in incomprehension.  _I thought I just did her a favour._  
  
_Oh well._  
  


<><>

  
Once she was around the corner, Taylor grinned widely.  _That was fucking awesome. The look on her face. I so wanted to kiss Brian, right then._  
  
_But I can't. I don't know if I've forgiven him yet._  
  


<><>

  
It wasn't all that hard to find the infirmary. There was a forbidding matronly type manning the desk, and a cute nurse, maybe twenty years old, tending to the patients. Apart from Emma and her seven friends, there was no-one else in there.  
  
_Now to find out if she'll be fit to do the cheerleading this afternoon._  
  
The girls were resting, having their eyes bathed at frequent intervals, while chatting among themselves. Brian considered it to be a sad comment on the state of affairs when the school infirmary had liberal amounts of eyewash on hand to deal with a pepper-spray attack.  
  
“Fucking Hebert … “ muttered Emma.  
  
“Can't believe she did that,” agreed the girl with the broken hand.  
  
“Why don't we just leave it?” asked a third girl. “She was just minding her own business.”  
  
“Don't be a fucking idiot, Kaia,” Emma growled. “Hebert fucked with us. She has to go.”  
  
“Even if she's a cape?” a fourth girl ventured, in an undertone. “Fucking with capes is bad business.”  
  
“Well, it's simple,” Emma stated flatly. “She's causing all this, so she's a villain. It's our civic duty to stop her from doing it. Any way we can.”  
  
Broken hand girl's eyes opened a fraction wider. “Do you mean -”  
  
Emma nodded. “Yeah. If we have to.”  
  
“But the unwritten rules -” began Kaia.  
  
“ - include not raping people,” Emma interrupted. “And somehow, she's causing people to get raped. So she's breaking them. They don't protect her, not any more.”  
  
Brian had heard enough. He took hold of Emma, causing her to sit upright. Then he pressed on her lower stomach, just above her pubic bone.  
  
“What's up, Emma?” asked Kaia.  
  
“Gotta pee,” Emma grunted. She slid off the bed and stumbled toward the bathroom, feeling her way; apparently her eyesight wasn't up to scratch quite yet. Brian followed, of course.  
  
Emma entered the bathroom and locked the door behind her. She lowered her pants and sat on the toilet; Brian heard the urine hitting the water.  
  
While he waited for her to finish, he lifted her top and bra, and played with her breasts. Smiling, she leaned back and squeezed them herself; when he pinched her nipples, she let out little 'oh's of pleasure. Leaning in, he kissed her; to seduce her and fuck her in the bathroom was going to be so much fun.  
  
And then Emma spoiled everything. “Hebert,” she murmured as she wiped herself, “I am gonna fuck you up  _so hard.”_  
  
“Well, fuck  _you_  then,” snapped Brian out loud; of course she didn't hear him. She didn't really understand it when he lifted her top over her head; her bra, unsnapped, followed them. Nor did she, could she, react when he pulled her pants off over her socks; she had taken her shoes off, of course, to get into bed.  
  
Thus naked, save for her socks, she lay down on the tiled floor, guided by his ungentle hands. He pushed her legs apart, reached between them, to where the bush of curly red hair nestled.  
  
_Red? That's weird. She must dye or something._  
  
His rough fingers pushed between her labia, pushed against the entrance to her vagina. She gasped and struggled against the sudden pain, so he put his hand over her mouth. His fingers forced their way into her and she cried out, muffled by his hand. He felt the wetness inside her; she wasn't ready for sex yet, but he could make her that way, easily.  
  
_Or I could rape her, for real._  
  
He wasn't sure where that thought came from, and he wasn't sure that he wanted to know. So instead, he pulled his fingers out of her, reached up, and switched off the bathroom light. Then he stripped out of his jeans and straddled her, pinning her arms down with his legs.  
  
When he repressed his power, he could tell when she became aware of him. "Mph!" she gasped, muffled by his hand.  
  
"Emma," he growled, leaning down close to her, and putting his hand lightly around her throat. "Can you hear me? Nod if you can."  
  
"Mm-hm," she responded, eyes wide in the semi-darkness. Carefully, she nodded.  
  
"Good," he responded, still in the guttural growl. "So tell me, why are you tormenting Taylor?"  
  
"Hmm-hmm?" she asked, sounding surprised.  
  
"Yeah, Taylor," he responded. "I'm gonna take my hand away. If you try to scream, I'll choke you."  
  
He removed his hand from her mouth; she took a deep breath, as if to scream, but he tightened his hand around her throat, and she evidently thought better of it.  
  
"I'm not tormenting Taylor," was her first reaction. He slapped her, hard enough to make her ears ring, then pulled back a bit and activated his power. Lifting her head, he teased her lips until they opened, and then slid his solidly erect penis into her mouth. Instinct took over, and he groaned from the sensation as she began to suck on him.  
  
Once his cock was solidly established in her mouth, the head touching the back of her throat, he dropped his power; admittedly, with some difficulty. She came back to awareness with a large penis in her mouth, one hand on the back of her head holding her there, and the other squeezing her throat just a little.  
  
She struggled and made muffled noises. "Keep sucking," he growled, and increased the pressure on her throat. This caused the muffled noises to become choking noises, but she took the hint and started suckling once more. After a few moments, which he rather enjoyed, he pulled his cock from her mouth.  
  
"Next time you lie, I do worse than that," he promised her as she gasped for breath. "Now, Taylor Hebert. I know you used to be her best friend. Why did you turn on her?"  
  
"It - it was Sophia," she gasped. "She saved me from the ABB -"  
  
"Sophia Hess? Shadow Stalker?" he interrupted.  
  
"Yes, yes," she agreed. "She showed me how to be strong -"  
  
This was starting to make sense now. "And being strong means shitting on others."  
  
"It's not like  _that -"_ was as far as she got, before he slapped her again. Grimly, he rubbed her vagina, tweaking her clit as she squirmed in pleasure, until she was lubricated enough to take him. As an afterthought, he rolled a condom on to his erection. Getting between her legs, he pushed just a little way into her before dropping his power.  
  
When she realised what was going on, her eyes and mouth opened wide in fright. "No - please - don't -"  
  
"You lied to me," he growled. "I warned you."  
  
"Okay," she whispered desperately. "It  _was_  like that, okay? Sophia told me that the way to be strong was to push other people down, and Taylor was the strongest person I knew. She told me that we had to push her down, if she pushed back, then she was strong enough -"  
  
She gasped as he pushed a little way into her. "No - please -"  
  
"You tormented her until she nearly committed  _suicide_ , you bitch," he growled. "And now you're plotting to kill her."  
  
"No - but - we have to -" she whimpered, then let out a strangled scream as he rammed all the way into her. His hand on her mouth stopped most of it, and he waited tensely for sounds of alarm from outside. None came, so he continued. She was tight and hot and slippery around him; he thrust into her a few more times before stopping, his penis buried balls-deep in her freshly-deflowered pussy.  
  
She was sobbing softly into his hand by now. "Stop that whining," he growled, and squeezed her throat for emphasis. She gulped and hiccuped, but managed to stop.  
  
"Please - take it out - you're hurting me -" she choked.  
  
"Tell me why you  _have to_  kill Taylor," he growled. "And make it good. There's worse I can do, yet."  
  
She sobbed a few more times, then nodded. "She - she's a cape. Targeting girls. Controlling them. Getting them raped."  
  
He shook his head in the semi-darkness. "You're wrong. She's not doing that. It's me. All me. I raped Madison and Sophia because they were tormenting Taylor. And now, it's your turn." He ground his hips down on hers to make his point.  
  
Her eyes were very wide. "You - in the bathroom -"  
  
He nodded. "It was me, in the bathroom. Not Taylor. Never Taylor. So do you know what you're going to do?"  
  
"What?" she quavered.  
  
He began to pump his hips, to thrust into her. She tried to cry out, to struggle, but his hand kept her voice muffled, while his weight kept her pinned down. "You're going to leave Taylor  _alone._  Hurt her, touch her, say things about her, take her stuff,  _anything -_ and I'll find you. I know your name, I know your face, I know where you live ... I can get to you  _anywhere."_ He was thrusting harder now, faster, on the verge of losing control over his power. "And if I have to - I'll do worse than  _this_  to you."  
  
His power let loose, and he gave himself over to the angry sex, to fucking the girl under him just as hard as he knew how. She relaxed somewhat, and was no longer tensed up around him; in fact, as he felt his orgasm approaching, she began to make noises of pleasure and move with him, thrusting her hips upward at his plundering cock.  
  
With a strangled groan, he came, thrusting deeply into her as she reached her own orgasm, all unaware. His penis spurted jet after jet of semen into the condom as he continued to fuck her, her body moving under his, in unison with him.  
  
Panting heavily, he pulled out of her and was just reaching for his jeans when the door opened from the outside.  
  
"Miss Barnes," exclaimed the nurse. "I heard strange noises - why do you have the light off?"  
  
Brian barely had time to move Emma's hand to her freshly-fucked vagina before the light clicked on and Emma came back to reality.  
  
Things got more than a little confused, then. However, the confusion worked in Brian's favour; he was able to slip out the door before the blocky matron entered the bathroom. There would not, he reflected, have been enough room in there for him, Emma, the nurse  _and_ the matron. He  _did_ grope the nurse on the way past; old habits died hard.  
  


<><>

  
Finding a quiet corner in the infirmary, he took the time to clean himself up and put his jeans back on. He wasn't proud of what he'd done, but after overhearing what Emma was planning, he hadn't seen that he had a choice in the matter. It was either let her do what she wanted, frighten her off, or kill her. And what the hell, Taylor had given him carte blanche to do exactly what he'd just done.  
  
Of course,  _she_ might not see things the same way, which was why he wasn't going to tell her what he'd just done to Emma. At all. Ever. Even though he'd done it for her.  
  
Well,  _mostly_ for her.


	9. Master/Stranger Shenanigans

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Taylor is caught in the fallout of Brian's rape of Emma. He intercedes and secures Taylor's freedom; she eventually forgives him.

_Holy shit, even Winslow's sports field is crappy._  
  
Brian looked out over the straggly grass that was attempting, and failing badly. to cover the ground. Rusting sprinklers stuck out of the ground on the verge, at irregular intervals. The grandstand was hardly worthy of the name; it looked ramshackle to the point of being dangerous to sit on. When he climbed up on to it and jumped up and down, it creaked and rattled ominously, but didn't collapse.  
  
 _Let's just hope it lasts through the tryouts._  
  
Not that he was going to be spending any time sitting on it; his energy would instead be aimed toward figuring out a way to get back into Taylor's good books. Because he desperately wanted her to be happy with him again. It wasn't even the sex, although that was spectacular. It was …  _her._  
  
There was no one part of her that he could point at and say “that's beautiful”, but the whole of her attracted him. Her slender body, her small breasts, her long, serious face, her large eyes … she had given of herself to him, allowed him to enjoy her body to the fullest. Knowing what he was doing, she had allowed him to keep doing it.  
  
 _As opposed to Miss Militia, who kept me prisoner until I satisfied her fully. Oh god. That's what I call insatiable._  
  
His penis stirred at the thought of the dusky-skinned Protectorate hero, but he sternly told it to mind its own business.  _Not going back there, not if I can help it. I prefer having working testicles, afterward._  
  


<><>

  
“ ... if you can then find the factorial … “ droned Mr Quinlan. Half the kids in the classroom weren't even pretending to pay attention; they were chatting and passing notes; a boy and a girl down at the back were surreptitiously making out. Taylor did her best to keep up, but she was distracted by what had happened with Brian.  
  
 _So what if Lisa guilted him into it. He still came clean. Still told me what was what. Asked permission to do anything with me after that._  
  
 _Maybe I've been a little hard on him. I miss him. I don't want to lose him over some stupid argument._  
  
 _After the cheerleading is over, I'm going to invite him home with me and we can have sex in my bed. A lot of sex. I'll sneak some food to him, and he can stay the night. And then we can have some more sex._  Because she had to admit; sex with Brian was  _amazing._  
  
The idea of getting back with Brian gave her a warm feeling, unfortunately interrupted by the PA system.  _“Taylor Hebert, please report to the principal's office. Taylor Hebert, please report to the principal's office.”_  
  
With a sigh, she got up and slung the bag over her shoulder.  _Whatever it is, pretty sure I'm not coming back._  
  
 _For **fuck's** sake._  
  
Mr Quinlan didn't even notice as she reached the door, opened it. She stepped out into the corridor, started the trek toward Principal Blackwell's office.  _Maybe I should just walk out. Go home. Go to the library. Go to the loft. Anywhere but here._  
  
 _Fuck it, might as well see this through._  
  


<><>

  
Opening the door to Principal Blackwell's office, she stepped through ... and they hit her from both sides at once.  
  
One of the first things that happened was that her arms were pinioned to either side of her; the second thing was a black cloth bag was pulled down over her head. Startled, she struggled. Her protests were smothered by the thick cloth of the bag. All around, she brought the swarm to readiness ...  
  
“Parahuman Response Teams!” snapped a voice from right in front of her. “Taylor Hebert, you are under arrest for suspected use of Master/Stranger capabilities on innocent civilians, including sexual assault upon minors, or the aiding and abetting of sexual assault upon minors. You have the right to remain silent. If you choose to waive that right … “  
  
The harsh voice continued to recite Taylor's Miranda rights. She was too stunned to react, until the question was repeated; "Do you understand these rights as they have been read to you? Nod if you understand."  
  
"Wait a minute," she objected. "I didn't catch the last bit. You rushed through it."  
  
The masculine voice sighed. "About the powers?"  
  
"That's the one."  
  
"Okay, one more time. 'You may refuse to reveal what powers, if any, you possess. Should you refuse to reveal your powers, the PRT is authorised to take whatever precautions that it deems necessary to ensure the safety of the public'." He paused. " _Whatever precautions_ , kid. That means lethal force, if necessary. Usually isn't but ... who knows?"  
  
"Okay, got it," Taylor responded. "I understand the rights. But why are you arresting  _me?_  I'm not a Master, and I'm not a Stranger. I didn't  _do_  anything. What am I supposed to have done?"  
  
 _Brian, what have you gotten me into?_  
  
“There have been reports of a Master/Stranger effect here at Winslow, Ms Hebert,” the PRT agent went on. “Your name came up several times. You have been specifically accused of either carrying out those attacks, or assisting the perpetrator.”  
  
She repeated her earlier protest. “But I didn't  _do_  anything!”  
  
“Earlier, you were in Principal Blackwell's office.”  
  
“Yes, because a bunch of girls attacked  _me,_  and I was accused of attacking  _them.”_  
  
“But you  _were_  in her office.”  
  
“Yes, I was.” She was starting to realise why he was pressing this point.  
  
“And she took her clothes off.”  
  
She hesitated. “ … her top and bra, yes.”  
  
“Which caused her to send you back to class.”  
  
“I … yes. I guess.”  
  
“Why do you think she did this?”  
  
 _I know exactly why. But I don't want to get Brian in trouble._  
  
“I … have no idea.”  
  
“Miss Hebert, you have a bag over your head, and I  _still_  think you're lying.” The agent spoke, not to her. “Cuff her hands. Miss Hebert, are you a parahuman?”  
  
“I … “  _Fuck, if I say yes, they'll want to know what powers. If I tell them, that outs me anyway. “_  … no, I'm not.”  
  
“We have reason to believe that this is not true!” shouted the PRT agent. “I will ask you again;  _are you a parahuman?”_  
  
“ _I didn't do it!”_  screamed Taylor. Uselessly, she tried to pull free of the cuffs now binding her hands. Too late, she felt the prongs of the stun-gun. The shock jolted through her, and the world went away.  
  


<><>

  
Principal Blackwell leaned forward over her desk to look down at the collapsed form of Taylor Hebert, uncomfortably anonymous with the bag over her head. “Was that really necessary?”  
  
The PRT agent looked up from cuffing the girl's ankles. “She made you take your clothes off in order to embarrass you. A girl was  _raped_  in a locked bathroom inside the infirmary. Other girls claim that she forced them to hurt themselves and each other. All the testimony points at this girl, at her using powers in a malicious and uncontrolled fashion.”  
  
Blackwell frowned. “But … rape? Didn't … wasn't there genetic material gained from the earlier incidents? She's a  _girl._  She doesn't have … “ her hands fluttered, trying to pick out words.  
  
“The appropriate bits and pieces?” The agent's voice was grim. “Changers exist. As do projectors. Once we get her back to the PRT building, we can test her, see if she's really a parahuman. If she is, we've got her. If she's not … well, she's cleared, we apologise profusely, then we see about minimising the lawsuit. But she's our best suspect to this point. So we're taking her in.”  
  
“I've never had any trouble from her before.” Blackwell's voice held doubt.  
  
"Okay, when did this all start happening?"  
  
"Monday." The principal's voice was firm. "It started Monday."  
  


<><>

  
As Brian was about to descend the grandstand, the flicker of blue light caught his eye; he stood, bracing himself against the unsteady movement, and shaded his eyes.  _That's a PRT van. What the fuck?_  
  
Pulling his cap down over his eyes, he suppressed his powers and slung his bag over his shoulder. Strolling along as if cutting across the sports field – it wasn't exactly unknown for this to happen – he angled to pass by the front of the school.  
  
Two agents stood by the vehicle; no cameras were in evidence. All the same, he waited until he was out of sight of the agents before exchanging his cap for a balaclava and shoving his jacket into his bag. Stealthed, he eased up alongside the van. The door was open; the radio was on.  
  
 _" - subject is subdued and in custody, over."_  
  
One of the agents next to the van spoke; Brian heard it as a mumble, but it came clearly over the radio.  _"Any problems, over?"_  
  
 _"None at all. She walked right into it."_  
  
The other agent spoke up. This one was a woman.  _"Agent Rogers, authenticate Alpha Charlie, over."_  
  
There was a sigh.  _"Rogers authenticates Foxtrot three Scion, over."_  
  
The woman spoke again.  _"Barton, authenticate Delta Bravo, over."_  
  
Another voice came over the radio.  _"Barton authenticates Hotel niner Legend, over."_  
  
 _"Davidson, authenticate Bravo Zulu, over."_  
  
 _"Davidson authenticates Alpha seven Vikare, over."_  
  
 _"Rogers, has anyone else come into contact with the suspect?"_  This was the woman again.  
  
 _"That's a negatory, over."_  
  
 _"Keep it that way. Keep me posted. Nichols, out."_  
  
Brian didn't loiter any longer. Stepping past the two PRT agents, he headed for the front doors of the school.  _Unless this is all a really huge coincidence, Taylor's in trouble. What I did to Emma must have backfired on to her._  He ground his teeth.  _Fuck, they must really hate her, to keep pushing this shit on to her._  
  
 _This is all my fault. I have to make it right._  
  


<><>

  
"Okay," mused PRT agent Hollis Barton. "So, forcing people to go places and do things against their will. Sometimes involving a memory lapse."  
  
"Classic Master technique," agreed his fellow agent, one Clifford Rogers by name. "But there's also the reports of actual rape, including evidence of actual penetration and semen left behind."  
  
"Which reminds me." Barton keyed his mic. "Davidson, what's the verdict on the latest victim?"  
  


<><>

  
In the infirmary, Celia Davidson activated her microphone to reply. "The school nurse examined her closely. She's definitely had sex, but there was no tearing or other evidence of excessive force. She is, of course, traumatised, but as he threatened her as well as assaulting her, I'm not surprised."  
  
 _"Wait, he **spoke** to her?"_ That was Nichols, outside.  
  
"Yes, ma'am," reported Celia. "He told her, and I quote, to leave Taylor Hebert alone, or he would do worse to her."  
  
 _"That's interesting,"_ Nichols commented.  _"Did she name Taylor Hebert as her attacker?"_  
  
"No, ma'am," Celia replied. "The other girls did, though. They also pointed out incidents of her using some sort of invisible force from a distance."  
  


<><>

  
Rogers shut off his mic. "Okay, this is officially getting weirder and weirder. Does she make people do stuff and wipe their memories, or does she manifest another form, rape girls, and move objects with her mind?"  
  
"Shadow Stalker submitted a report following her incident here," Barton noted. "I don't recall the specifics, but apparently she had a run-in with the Hebert girl, who used some weird ability to trip her up. And then when she went to report this, she came to in the boys' bathrooms."  
  
"Wait a minute," mused Rogers. "What if they're  _all_ telling the truth?"  
  
Barton's tone was dubious in the extreme. "I'm listening."  
  
"Apparently, Hebert missed a few classes on Friday last. Suppose the girls here have a problem with her."  
  
"They certainly didn't show any hesitation in throwing her to the wolves."  
  
"Exactly. They pull some nasty prank or other. This causes her to trigger."  
  
"I dunno. Trigger events need to be really huge, from what I've read."  
  
"Bear with me, here. So she triggers. She kind of has an idea that she's got powers, but not really. But when she comes to school Monday, and they start on her, the powers she didn't know about activate. Classic poltergeist effect."  
  
"Poltergeist effect," echoed Barton. "Didn't they debunk that?"  
  
"Maybe the poltergeist effect doesn't care. These girls are tormenting her. So her mind manifests the worse thing she can think of; an invisible guy who drags girls off and rapes them."  
  
"With a Stranger effect of its own. Or maybe her Stranger effect works alongside the invisible friend, blanking their memories. If they can't remember him, they can't identify the fact that he's invisible."  
  
"But what about the semen?"  
  
"Another manifestation? It  _did_ disappear."  
  
"It was taken by the Stranger."  
  
"Maybe to cover up the fact that it was  _going to_ vanish." Rogers was excited. "It fits."  
  
"Sure it fits," Barton observed dryly. "If you squint hard enough."  
  
"It even explains why she hesitated when you asked her if she knew anything about it. She's figured that a figment of her mind is doing it, but she doesn't want to admit to it. 'She' isn't doing it. Not consciously."  
  
“And the bathroom attack?”  
  
Rogers shrugged. “They came after her because of the previous attacks. Her invisible alter ego protected her. Something weird came out of nowhere and caused them to hurt  _themselves_  while they were trying to hurt  _her.”_  
  
“Actually, hold on a moment.” Barton turned to Principal Blackwell. “Maybe you can give us some background.  _Does_  Taylor Hebert have a history of problems with the girls who were assaulted?”  
  
“Including Sophia Hess?” added Rogers.  
  
“I, uh, maybe?” Blackwell didn't look as though she wanted to answer the question.  
  
“Ms Blackwell.” Rogers' voice was firm. “This is a PRT investigation. One member of the Wards has already been sexually assaulted at your school, and her identity potentially discovered. Do  _not_ withhold information from us.”  
  
She squirmed. “I, uh … there were occasional mentions, but I didn't deem them worthy of action.”  
  
“In other words, the other girls always had better witnesses,” Barton filled in. “I see.”  
  
“What are you going to do with her?” Blackwell eyed Taylor's feebly moving form.  
  
“Take her downtown to the PRT building,” Rogers stated, looking down at the girl. “See if we can't ascertain her powerset. Work out what to do from there.”  
  
"What the fuck?"  
  
Rogers glanced up up at Barton's exclamation. At first he wasn't sure what was wrong, then he wondered,  _why is Principal Blackwell tied to her chair with electrical tape?_  
  
“Holy shit,” he exclaimed. “She's taped to her chair. How the fuck did that happen?”  
  
Blackwell couldn't answer because, he realised belatedly, the tape also covered her mouth, effectively gagging her. He took a step toward the desk, then blinked, as he saw two PRT helmets on the desk. One was his, and one was Barton's. He knew this because he saw Barton, looking just as bewildered as he was, touching his own face with his fingertips.  
  
“Stranger!” he realised. “She's manifesting!”  
  
He went to pull the stun-gun from his belt, to zap her again, but found himself on his knees instead, his hands cuffed behind him. Something was over his head;  _the bag,_ he realised.  _The one I put on her head. She must have woken up, and her power manifested._  
  
 _Fuck._  
  
 _I've got to get out of this._  
  
He got one foot under himself and started to rise, only to have a hand descend on the back of his neck and push him down again. When he tried again, his ankles refused to move apart; they had also been cuffed together.  
  
“What do you want?” he called out, through the muffling bag.  
  
“For you to listen!” snapped a strange voice. It wasn't Barton's, it wasn't Blackwell's, and it certainly wasn't the Hebert girl's. Masculine, sounding maybe late teens.  
  
“Okay, I'm listening,” he replied, anxious to sound reasonable.  _I stun-gunned her. I am in so much shit._  
  
“Good. Taylor Hebert is not behind these attacks. I am.”  
  
“Are you the other part of her? The manifestation?” That was Barton's voice.  
  
“No, you fucking idiot. I'm a parahuman who came to Winslow to get my rocks off. Taylor was the first girl I picked on.”  
  
“What?” Rogers was confused. “She never reported any assault.”  
  
“Because I cleaned her up. But then I came back, and I saw all these other girls picking on her.”  
  
Inside the bag, Rogers rolled his eyes. “I fucking  _knew_  it!”  
  
“Yeah, so I kind of fucked them. But because I was protecting her, they thought she was behind it and attacked her. I protected her, but I also had to reveal myself to her. She forgave me, and I was going to stop doing this shit.”  
  
“But you obviously didn't.” That was Barton again.  
  
“I was  _going_ to,” the voice insisted. “Until I overheard them in the infirmary today. They were planning to kill Taylor, because they thought she was doing what I was doing.”  
  
“Wait, wait,” Rogers interrupted. “Did she  _tell_  you who to target?”  
  
“Fuck, no,” the Stranger replied. “She was horrified when I told her. Insisted that I stop. So I did.”  
  
“Until Emma Barnes,” Barton pointed out.  
  
“Yeah, well, she was inciting the others into killing Taylor for something she didn't even do, so I got her alone and told her to leave Taylor the fuck alone. Or else.”  
  
“You  _raped_  her!” snapped Rogers.  
  
“Got her attention, didn't I?” The voice was offhand. “She was planning  _murder._  Of someone I care very much for. Would you rather I had beaten her up? Broken a few bones? I could've done that. But I doubt it would have made as much of an impression on her as it did.”  
  
“Maybe you should have reported it, instead of taking matters into your own hands,” Barton pointed out.  
  
“And maybe by the time anyone did anything worthwhile about it, Taylor would have been  _murdered!”_  the voice snapped back.  
  
“Listen, if you'll just come down to the PRT building, we can sort this all out,” ventured Rogers. “Because right now, Taylor is in a world of trouble.”  
  
“No.” The word was flat and uncompromising. “What you're going to do is go back to the PRT building and ask Shadow Stalker why she was trying to grab and hit Taylor in full view of all her friends. Because your  _Ward_  is one of the  _bullies._  And that's why I fucked her.”  
  
“Rape is a crime -” began Barton.  
  
There was a snort of derision. “Hardly rape in her case. She took it and begged for more. When I fucked her in the ass? That was  _her_  idea. No, Shadow Stalker's been helping to bully Taylor for more than a year.  _That's_  a crime, too. You go sort your own fucking messes out. Taylor is  _innocent._  It's all my doing.”  
  
“We still don't know if you're not an unconscious manifestation of her power,” Rogers stated. “And until we get proof one way or the other -”  
  
“ _Christ._  Fine. Here.” The bag was yanked off of Rogers' head, and he blinked in the sudden influx of light. The figure before him swam into view; it was a tall black kid wearing a balaclava, with a backpack over his shoulder. “Do I  _look_  like a manifestation to you?”  
  
“You  _could_  be,” hedged Rogers.  
  
“Okay then,” the kid snapped. Reaching into the backpack, he found a baseball cap and slapped it on to Rogers' head. “Un-manifest  _that,_  smart guy.”  
  
Rogers looked up, his eyes crossing as he tried to see the bill of the cap. “I'm going to have to take it with me -”  
  
“And see if there are sweat particles and hair follicles and all that forensic shit on it, right?” The Stranger shook his head. “I caught an Empire Eighty-Eight asshole in the hallway the other day, and beat shit out of him. Took his cap. I haven't even worn it yet. So good luck with that.” He leaned back against the desk, crossing his arms. “So, have I proven that I'm the one behind it all yet? Because Taylor's really innocent in all this.”  
  
Rogers looked around at where Taylor lay, still semi-conscious, hair a mess and glasses askew from the bag that had been put over her head and then pulled off again. “She refused to tell us about you. That's aiding and abetting.”  
  
“So wait, she gets bullied for more than a year, and it's all fun and games, but I sexually assault three of her bullies, and all of a sudden it's a federal fucking offence? How  _exactly_  is that fair?”  
  
Rogers swallowed. “You admitted to raping -”  
  
“Taylor didn't  _do_  it,” the Stranger interrupted. “And when she found out what I was doing, she told me to  _stop!_  So I  _did!_ ”  
  
“Until you didn't,” put in Barton. “There was that.”  
  
“So I should have let Emma murder her?”  
  
“If you warned the authorities -” began Rogers.  
  
“About  _what_ , exactly?” the Stranger shouted. “How, exactly, could I have worded it so that they would believe me, and it wouldn't out me for who I was? I'll tell you – I  _couldn't!_  It wasn't going to happen! So I did it my way! And she knows damn well if she makes another move toward Taylor, I'll be right there, waiting. So you're welcome, I've done your job for you. Shadow Stalker is a bully, Emma and her friends are murderous bullies, and Taylor is innocent.” He leaned closer to Rogers' face. “And if you don't do something about all of that …  _I will.”_  
  
Rogers blinked, and then he realised that his hands were free, as were his ankles. Getting up, he looked around the office. There was no sign of the Stranger.  _But then, he could be standing right there, and I wouldn't know it._  
  
Reaching up, he removed the cap, and looked at it. It  _looked_  real, and it  _felt_  real. Getting out his lighter, he held the flame under the edge of the brim. The cloth blackened and a coil of smoke arose. It smelt like burning.  
  
 _Okay, it's real._  
  
“What's that?” asked Barton. “Do I smell smoke? What's going on?”  
  
“It's okay,” Rogers assured him. “He's gone. I was just testing something.” He removed the bag from Barton's head, then cut the zip-ties holding his wrists and ankles. Taylor Hebert, he noted, was sitting up, looking a little groggy. She no longer had the cuffs on her wrists or ankles.  
  
“Where'd you get the cap from?” asked Barton.  
  
“Got it from the Stranger,” Rogers told him. “I used my lighter to put that burn mark on it. It's real.  _He's_  real. Not a projection. So the girl's innocent.”  
  
“She withheld -” began Barton.  
  
“She's a  _normal,”_  Rogers pointed out. “He's a  _cape._  What's she gonna do? Out the guy who's been protecting her from the bullies?”  
  
“Take her in for questioning?”  
  
Taylor looked up at that. “I won't go,” she responded in a flat tone of voice. “Fuck you all. I hope he strips you down to your skivvies and paints you bright green. I  _told_  you I didn't do it, and you fucking _tasered_  me.”  
  
“It was a stun gun -” began Barton, but Rogers waved him to silence.  
  
“Okay, we got it wrong,” he admitted. “But we had the information. And girls were being raped.”  
  
“No shit, Sherlock!” she snapped. “I was the first one! And you know something? He made it nice enough that afterwards, even though I had no idea what happened, I was  _happy!_ ”  
  
Rogers picked up his helmet and put it back on. “Would you be willing to make a report about the assault?”  
  
“Yeah. Three words. Oh. My. God.” She glared at him. “You can quote me on that.”  
  
Barton replaced his own helmet on his head. “There's still aiding and abetting -”  
  
“And there's still the fact that you cuffed and tasered me, because you thought I  _might_  be raping my fellow classmates,” she retorted. “My dad knows someone in the media. I bet  _she'd_  love that little soundbite.”  
  
Rogers winced. Bad PR for the PRT would invariably bring a heap of fresh manure down on to the heads of whoever caused it. “Okay, fine. We may come back to talk to you later.”  
  
“No, you won't,” she told him. “We've established that he's a cape. I'm his girlfriend. Asking me about him is the same as going after his family.”  
  
Which was against the unwritten rules, Rogers knew.  _Fuck._  “Okay, fine.”  
  
“So now that we've established that the other girls – including Shadow Stalker – were attacking  _me_  all this time, what are you going to do?”  
  
Rogers sighed, defeated. “We'll investigate, and pass on whatever relevant information we find to the police.”  
  
“And am I free to go?”  
  
“You're free to go.”  
  
“ _Thank_  you.”  
  
As she stalked out, Rogers keyed his mic. “Rogers to Nichols, there's been a change in the situation, over.”  
  
“ _I'm listening.”_  
  
“Long story short, we spoke to the Stranger. Taylor Hebert doesn't have powers. She's innocent of everything except not telling us about him. Over.”  
  
“ _Do you have the Stranger in custody?”_  
  
“No. He left.”  
  
An aggravated sigh.  _“Okay. I want you to authenticate Kilo Foxtrot.”_  
  
“Rogers authenticates ...”  
  


<><>

  
Taylor wasn't quite sure what to do.  _Do I go home? Do I go to the loft? Do I stay here?_  
  
Aimlessly, she wandered along the corridors, trying to figure out her next move. When she found her steps turning toward an empty classroom, she figured that she knew exactly what was going on, and let it happen.  _Okay, Brian, let's see what you've got to say for yourself._  
  
There seemed to be no particular interval between the door being locked and the door being open; she entered, to find Brian waiting for her. Carefully, she closed the door behind herself. "Hi."  
  
Awkwardly, he nodded. "Hi."  
  
Pulling out a chair from the nearest desk, she spun it around and sat on it, her arms crossed over the back. "So what the fuck happened? Did you rape Emma? After I told you not to?"  
  
He hitched himself up on to the corner of a desk. "Yeah, I guess so. But you said I could."  
  
"No." She shook her head. "I'm pretty sure that I'd remember telling you to stick your dick in Emma."  
  
"No, no, you didn't tell me to  _do_  it," he protested. "You told me that I could go and do what I wanted, because we were through."  
  
"So you  _wanted_ to fuck Emma, is that it?" she challenged him. "I wouldn't put out for you, so you went straight for Emma."  
  
"No, I went to the sickbay to see if she was going to be fit for cheerleader practice," he explained. "And she was talking about how you needed to be stopped. Taylor, she was talking about  _killing_  you!"  
  
"We  _all_  say shit like that," she protested. "It's not like we ever follow through on it."  
  
"No, she wasn't actually saying 'kill'. She was saying things like 'take care of the problem' and 'duty to our fellow students'. She was  _serious,_  Taylor. She honestly considered you enough of a problem, especially after Shadow Stalker got pulled from the school, and their attack on you in the bathrooms failed, that she didn't have any other choice."  
  
Taylor felt a chill go down her back. “So, what you're saying is that she considers me a cape who's out of control?”  
  
“Considered,” Brian corrected her. “I think I changed her mind.”  
  
“Except that the PRT got called in!” Taylor snapped. “They  _arrested_ me! I got  _tased!”_ Standing up, she lifted her shirt and showed him the red marks on her ribs. “It still hurts!” She didn't care that she was also showing him her bra and a good bit of her stomach.  
  
“Want me to go tase the guy who did it?” asked Brian. “I figure I can totally do it.”  
  
For a moment, Taylor was tempted, but then she reined herself in. “No, as fun as it might be,” she decided. “We don't want to piss off the PRT any more than we already have.”  
  
He sighed. “Well, then.” He slid off of the desk and walked over to her. “Those look painful.”  
  
“Well, duh! They're burn marks!” She rolled her eyes. “I can't believe that they arrested me for being you, instead of for being me.”  
  
He put his arms around her and held her close; after a moment, she relaxed and returned the embrace.  
  
“So what's this mean for us?” he asked softly. “Are we still not a couple?”  
  
Sighing, she rested her head on his chest. “I dunno. You fucked Emma.”  
  
“After you told me to go do whatever,” he reminded her. “And it  _was_  for a good cause.”  
  
“Rape is  _never_  for a good cause,” she told him sharply.  
  
“Does it count if she comes?” he asked. “Because she did, you know.”  
  
Pushing back from him, she punched him on the shoulder.  
  
“Ow. What was that for?” He rubbed the spot.  
  
“Fucking Emma.” She punched him again.  
  
“Ow. And that?”  
  
“Getting me tased.” She smacked her fist into the same spot.  
  
“Ow, hey. Come on. What was  _that_  for?”  
  
“Talking about how you made another girl come while you're hugging me.”  
  
“I don't  _want_  to make other girls come,” he protested. “I just want to make  _you_  come.”  
  
His words sent a thrill through her body. “You mean that?” she asked softly.  
  
“Of course I do,” he insisted. Leaning down, he lifted her chin with one finger. Closing her eyes, she parted her lips. His mouth was warm and gentle at first, then became more demanding. Wrapping her arms around him, she returned the ardour of the kiss, pressing her body against his. His tongue intruded into her mouth, to be met by hers; a sensuous duel commenced, sending thrills of arousal through her body.  
  
When they broke the kiss, she was panting, her body afire with passion. “Brian … “ she breathed.  
  
“Taylor,” he murmured, his eyes hot on hers. Leaning down, he pressed his lips and teeth to the side of her neck, sending shivers of pleasure in all directions throughout her body. She felt his hands lifting her shirt; she cooperated, pulling it up and over her head. It dropped to the floor, as did his shirt, a moment later. The sight of his rippling muscles struck fresh sparks in her fevered arousal, and she took a moment to run her hands up and down them. As she did so, he busied himself by unclipping her bra; she let it fall off of her shoulders, baring her small, firm breasts.  
  
Kneeling before her, he pulled her down slightly so that he could worship her modest endowment with his lips and tongue and teeth; she gasped and ran her fingers through his cornrows. As he nibbled at her almost painfully erect nipples, she moaned and raked her nails over his shoulders.  
  
Under his gently coaxing hands, she felt her jeans come undone; eagerly, she stepped out of them and her sandals both, presenting herself to him dressed only in panties. His hands roved over her almost-naked body, leaving trails of fire where his fingers brushed her arousal-heated skin. She leaned in and kissed him again, while her hands busied themselves with his belt buckle and the button to his jeans. When they came open, she fell to her knees, almost dragging them down in her eagerness to uncage the beast. His more than half-erect penis came out, stiffening by the moment; she took hold of it, licking at the head, encompassing the very tip between her lips for just a moment. His groan as she did so was heartfelt and accompanied by a dramatic improvement in general length, thickness and overall hardness.  
  
“D-don't suck on me,” he moaned. “If you do, I'll lose control, and my powers will kick in.” Lifting her to her feet, he hoisted her up and placed her on a desk, her butt perched on the very edge. She lifted one buttock and the other, allowing him to divest her of her panties; naked, she awaited his pleasure.  
  
The pleasure certainly came; going to his knees, he parted her legs and began to lick at her. His tongue slid along her thighs to the centre of her sex, causing her head to fall back in shuddering ecstasy. He tasted her flowing juices and flicked his tongue at her hard little bud, driving her into an orgasm that nearly sent her off the desk. Her legs wrapped around his neck as he worked harder and harder at her, sliding his talented tongue into her tight vaginal canal, lapping at her labia, and nibbling at her clitoris. As he worked relentlessly at her, she arched her back and climaxed again and again, biting her lip to avoid crying out too loudly.  
  
Her body was awash with pleasure, the latest orgasm still sending exquisite tingles through her nerve endings, when he prised her legs off of his neck and stood up. Shaking hands rolled a condom on to his erection. Divining his intention, she let herself lay back, and spread her welcoming thighs for him. Taking hold of her legs, he pulled her a little closer to him, then placed the thick head of his cock at the entrance to her swollen pussy.  
  
“Brian, do it,” she urged him, her breathing ragged. “Oh god, I want this.”  
  
She felt him start to slide into her, parting her engorged, arousal-slick labia, opening up her tight young vaginal canal. It was as if he were fucking her for the very first time, taking her virginity in return for boundless pleasure. She groaned as he penetrated her, pushing deeper and deeper into her slippery wetness, filling her up with his manhood.  
  
When his scrotum came to rest against her buttocks, she gasped; he was filling her up so completely! She could feel every inch of him inside her, and she gloried in it. Pulling herself to a sitting position, she wrapped her arms around him. “Now fuck me,” she panted. “Fuck me harder than you fucked Emma.”  
  
With a growl of pure animal lust, he slid his hands under her buttocks and lifted her from the desk; as she wrapped her legs around his waist, he pushed her up against the wall, and began to do as she had told him. His hips pumped; that thick cock drove into her, again and again. She gasped, wide-eyed, as he took her pussy, conquered it, owned it. With every stroke, he sheathed himself within her, totally and utterly, and she arched her back and came at the sheer blinding pleasure of it.  
  
At some point, he inevitably lost control of his power; however, her eyes were already unfocused and she was already bucking in the convulsions of lust, impaled upon his driving erection, so it was hard to tell exactly when that was. He fucked her up against the wall until his legs began to give out, so he lowered her to the floor, and kept on going. Her nails scored his back, and her moans of passion spurred him on; when he finally managed to come, he was panting like a steam train, and sweating a river. His manhood drove into her receptive depths, and he felt his hot semen spurting into the condom. Still, he kept fucking her, kept her writhing under him in climax, until his cock began to soften within her.  
  
She blinked as he rolled off of her, his condom-covered penis sliding out of her with a wet  _plop._  She stared at the ceiling, gasping for breath, luxuriating in the feeling of utter well-being that radiated in all directions from her well-fucked pussy.  
  
“Oh. My god,” she groaned. “Holy shit. You just … wow. That was … fuck, that was good.”  
  
“Yeah,” he murmured. “It was.” Leaning over her, he kissed her tenderly. “So, are we good?”  
  
Grinning, she kissed him back. “Yeah, until I decide to punch you again for whatever reason.”  
  
“Ow. You brute.” He kissed her again. “I can live with that.”  
  
She let him gather her to him; together, side by side, they lay, her head pillowed on his arm.  
  
“Thank you,” she whispered.  
  
“For what?”  
  
She leaned in and kissed him. “For everything.”  
  


<><>

  
“You know what I'd like to do, sometime,” she mused as she gathered her scattered clothing.  
  
“What's that?” he asked, tying a knot in the condom and putting it carefully into his bag.  
  
“Go back to the toilet where you first took my virginity, and doing it again, only letting me know what's going on.”  
  
“What, the same way?” he asked, pulling up his jeans.  
  
“Doing it exactly the same way as when you first did it to me,” she confirmed. “Because I walked out of that bathroom feeling pretty damn special.”  
  
He grinned. “You know, I fucked you twice in there. Once, starting on the toilet and ending up with you sitting on the washbasin bench, and the other starting and finishing on the bench. This was in between cleaning you and your clothes up, of course.”  
  
“So that  _was_  you. I thought it was, but I wasn't sure.”  
  
He grinned at her. “Yeah. That's how I knew who was bothering you.”  
  
“Right. So yeah, you want to do it that way again sometime?”  
  
For an answer, he came over to where she stood and kissed her; she kissed him back, holding him tightly. “Definitely,” he murmured. “Most definitely.”  
  
She enjoyed the closeness, the kisses, the touches. The urgency was gone, but the attraction remained. “So you won't be looking at any other girls? Even if they pose a threat to me?”  
  
“Well, I won't be  _fucking_  them,” he promised. “And talking about that. I believe there were cheerleader tryouts to be had.”  
  
“I doubt Emma will be attending,” she pointed out.  
  
“So?” He grinned. “I'm willing to bet that  _some_  of her hangers-on will be there.”  
  
Slowly, she smiled. “I  _like_  it.”


	10. Wardrobe Malfunction and Other Malfunctions

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Brian causes shenanigans with the cheerleader tryouts. Julie ends up being enjoyed by the football team, and Blackwell gets some too.

Principal Blackwell strode through the crowd on the single playing field that Winslow High boasted. The events of the day had almost caused her to cancel the cheerleader tryouts, but she was determined that  _something_  would go right for the day, so she was pushing it through anyway.  
  
Following the PRT's visit to the school, Taylor Hebert had been cleared of being a parahuman of any kind; the officers had made it clear that any continued harassment of the girl would cause serious problems for the harassers. If there was, as it seemed, a Master/Stranger looking out for her, then it was far better to leave her be than to irritate him into more egregious forms of reprisal. She shuddered, recalling her own brush with the parahuman; she could have, she knew, found herself bending over her own desk with her skirt around her waist. And that could still happen, if she continued to allow the girls to keep picking on Taylor.  
  
A small part of her wondered what it would be like, to have that happen to her. Her sexual encounters were few and far between, these days, and having a mystery lover, who she didn't have to worry about getting through the seduction process with, might be quite a relief ...  
  
Gritting her teeth, she pushed the treacherous notion away. This was a bad thing that had happened, and she had to fix it, not dwell on lecherous thoughts.  
  
Fortunately, Sophia Hess had been taken out of Winslow, Emma Barnes was in the process of being removed from the school by her father, and Madison Clements was on suspension. This left just the hangers-on, who shouldn't be too hard to convince to leave her alone. The pepper-spray incident in the bathrooms had been a salutary lesson, along with that one girl's fractured wrist.  
  
She spotted the Hebert girl on the fringes of the crowd, and changed direction toward her. The girl saw her coming, and stood her ground.  
  
“Miss Hebert,” Blackwell greeted her.  
  
“Principal Blackwell.” The girl was at least vaguely polite.  
  
“I've passed on word to all the teachers. Anyone harassing you is to be dealt with very firmly.” She wet her lips. “Please tell your, uh, friend that.”  
  
The look she got from the girl almost made her cringe. “So it took  _this_  to make you do this for me. What would've happened if he hadn't come to Winslow? You would've let them just keep hurting me?”  
  
Blackwell swallowed. “I -” She tried again. “Mistakes were made. Bad mistakes. I see now that I was handling it all wrong. I should have been -”  
  
“Yes. You should.” The Hebert girl turned away from her, started walking away.  
  
“Will you tell him? That I've told them? That I've done this?” She took a couple of steps after the girl.  
  
She stopped, turned back toward Blackwell, her eyes full of scorn. “Why don't  _you_  tell him. When you see him next.” Then she turned away, and was lost in the crowd. Blackwell was left standing there, fully aware that Taylor Hebert could have slapped her on the face, and she would have had to stand there and take it.  
  


<><>

  
"So what exactly happened to Emma, does anyone know?"  
  
The question came from a girl called Megan, as she was bent over, rubbing aloe cream into her calf. The fact that she was only wearing a short skirt at the time made even that action profoundly sensual. Behind her, Brian reached under and cupped her teenage vagina, rubbing gently with his fingers, working to match the movements of her hands on her smooth skin.  
  
"Fucked if I know," replied Julia. She was still drying herself after her shower; as she ran the towel over her head, her small breasts changed shape in utterly fascinating ways. "They say she got bent over the toilet and fucked up the ass."  
  
"No, Kaia was there, and she said Emma got raped the normal way, not in the ass," objected another girl.  
  
"If it was even rape," put in a fourth girl. "They say that before she came around, she was fingering her pussy, and she had a silly grin a mile wide on her face."  
  
"Hey, rape's rape, even if you enjoy it," objected Julia. "Megan, back me up here."  
  
Megan didn't answer, as she was concentrating on rubbing the cream into her calf, her eyes unfocused, making little whimpering noises as she did so.  
  
“Hey, Megan, you okay?” Julia let her towel drop around her shoulders as she moved to Megan's side. “What's the matter?”  
  
Megan's hands had moved further up her leg, and Brian was rewarding her with two fingers in her pussy and his thumb on her clit, rubbing hard. Her eyes rolled back in her head as she rubbed her smooth skin even harder.  
  
“Christ, it looks like she's rubbing one out,” commented one of the other girls. “Is she even touching herself?”  
  
“Only on the leg,” Julia noted. She picked up the container of cream and sniffed at it. “Aloe. Huh.” Beside her, Megan came extravagantly, and slumped over the bench, panting softly.  
  
“And she got off just by rubbing that into her leg? Wow.”  
  
Julia ignored the girl's comment, and glopped some into her palm. As she did so, Brian began to caress her breasts and ass. “Oh, wow,” she murmured. She dabbed it on to her skin; Brian began to stroke her pussy. “Oh,  _wow.”_  
  
“Oh wow, what?” asked one of the girls.  
  
“Fuck, this is like … ohhh god … it's making me feel good all over.”  
  
This was because Brian was suckling on one of her nipples, while giving her pussy and ass a good solid molesting, but she wasn't to know that. All she knew was that rubbing this aloe cream into her body gave her the most  _amazing_ sensations.  
  
Moaning softly, she began to rub it into her skin, not missing any of her more sensitive parts, her slim young form undulating with the pleasure that Brian was giving her. The other girls watched her, and the semi-conscious Megan, with mixed curiosity and caution.  
  
“Shit, she's getting off just by rubbing that into herself,” remarked one of them.  
  
“Well,  _duh._  She's rubbing it directly on to her pussy. I would too,” another one pointed out.  
  
“No, she was getting horny even before she started touching her pussy.”  
  
“I wonder what that feels like,” murmured a third, reaching for the container.  
  
“I wouldn't touch that shit,” another one cautioned. “What if it's that Stranger raping her? It might make him come after you.”  
  
“Shit, she doesn't look like she's being raped. She looks like she's having the time of her life.”  
  
“All the same, I don't think -”  
  
What the girl thought or didn't think became a moot point, as a new voice intruded. “What's going on in here? You girls are supposed to be all getting dressed! What are you all gawking at?”  
  
Principal Blackwell pushed her way through the crowd of semi-naked teenage girls and stared at Julia. Slowly coming to her senses, the teenager looked back at her. “I -”  
  
“You know what? I don't care.” The principal waved a hand. “Get dressed. There's a crowd out there, looking to see you try out for the cheerleader positions.”  
  
Julia had the appearance of someone who has been denied entry into heaven at the last moment, she surreptitiously rubbed some more into her hip, but nothing untoward happened.  
  
“If you're not dressed, ready and out there in five minutes, you don't get to try out!” Blackwell looked around at the girls. “I mean it!”  
  
That provoked a flurry of activity, as girls dashed to their lockers. Brian followed one who was most completely dressed; as she paused to comb her hair, he knelt beside her, reached up under her skirt, and slid her panties down her legs. Moving quickly, he went from one girl to another, depriving them of whatever underwear he could manage. In the process, he got to feel up a good many pussies and asses, which process both he and the girls enjoyed. His erection grew in his pants until he was pretty sure that Taylor was going to have a job on her hands getting it down again.  
  
Julia, having been naked at the start, and still tingling from the near-orgasm, was one of the last ones dressed. He ensured that she had no panties, and even deftly removed her bra before she got to go outside. She scurried out the door, under Blackwell's disapproving eye, bare seconds before the five minutes were up.  
  
Brian followed her out, dumping the heaping pile of feminine underwear in the trash can as he went. Blackwell was directing the girls toward where they were waiting near the grandstand, under the watchful eye of Mrs Knott. The principal's precipitate entry had spoiled his idea of causing a naked teenage lesbian orgy in the locker room, but there was still room for some fun in the day.  
  


<><>

  
Principal Blackwell moved to stand before the grandstand. Behind her, on the playing field, the various members of the Winslow football team were practicing various plays; it was tradition for them to do this while the cheerleaders were trying out. She ignored them, as was also tradition.  
  
“Ladies and gentlemen,” she addressed the proud parents and friends seated in the grandstand, many with cameras. “Thank you for coming today. These young ladies you will see today will be carrying on the proud American tradition of cheering on our team to victory in the year to come!”  
  
_Not that Winslow's ever actually won a match,_ she mused sourly.  _Well, maybe one day._  
  
Desultory cheering and clapping greeted her words. It seemed that the audience had as good an idea of the team's chances as she did. “Well, without further ado, let the tryouts begin!”  
  
Initially, the tryouts were fairly simple; each girl ran on, was introduced, made a few basic cheerleader moves, and then convened behind the grandstand. Each one was cheered and clapped, mostly by friends, parents and occasional boyfriends. It was when they came back en masse that things began to go out of control.  
  
More than one girl appeared to be flushed and excited when they reappeared. They formed up in two staggered lines before the grandstand, and began to go through the full cheerleader routine. This involved jumping, twirling, and cartwheels; it didn't take long at all for people to start noticing that the girls were wearing less than they should be for such activities; not only were tops apparently giving way to reveal a total lack of bra, but skirts were flying up (or down, in the case of those who were currently doing cartwheels) and even occasionally coming off, to reveal that these girls were also wearing nothing in the way of panties.  
  
In short, all and sundry were being flashed, in no uncertain fashion.  
  
Worse, the cameras that had been brought along for the occasion were recording this in living colour and high definition.  
  
“Stop filming!” screeched Blackwell. “No photos!” She ran in front of the cheerleaders, in an attempt to screen them from their now very-attentive public, but was quickly swamped.  
  
The football players were also converging on the scene; naked teenage girls, after all, are something that athletic teenage boys are very interested in. In addition, the audience was now descending from the grandstand; what had previously been order quickly devolved into chaos.  
  
Each of the girls found herself with one or more male admirers; however, parents quickly swooped in to rescue their girls, parents giving up jackets to cover their nakedness. Julia, on the other hand, inexplicably ended up behind the grandstand, with three of the hunkier football players in attendance. They all looked a little surprised to be there, as was she, but she was still feeling remarkably frustrated from her earlier near-orgasm, and amazing sensations were still running through her body, so it was not perhaps altogether surprising that she knelt and undid the nearest boy's pants.  
  
The length of his erection sprang out, making her gasp; she began to suckle on it industriously, even as the other two boys caressed and molested her taut young body. Clothes were undone and other penises emerged, and she did her best to give them the attention that they deserved. When she felt herself being lifted into position, she spread her legs, allowing the boy to penetrate her from behind. She was no virgin, but her sexual experience was limited. She had never had doggy-style before, but as the thick penis slid deep into her tight young pussy, she found that she  _liked_  it.  
  
Principal Blackwell found them behind the grandstand; Julia on her hands and knees, sucking one boy to erection while another grunted and thrust into her from behind. There was a small group of them waiting; more were lining up, it seemed, for a second try. She opened her mouth to expostulate, and found herself unable to speak. Her clothing seemed to slide from her body; fire awoke all over her, as she was touched and caressed in ways that she had rarely experienced before. Her previous fantasy of a phantom lover rose to the fore; “Yes,” she moaned. “Yes.”  
  
And then she came back to herself, as naked as Julia herself, bent over and holding on to the framework of the grandstand. Behind her, a senior, the football captain, was poised with his hands on his hips, his erect penis pressing against the very entrance to her sopping vagina. She looked over her shoulder at him, her body yearning, wanting.  
  
“Oh god yes,” she told him. “Do it to me.”  
  
As he drove his length to the hilt within her, she closed her eyes and gave herself up to the pleasure. After all, it wasn't her phantom lover, but it was close enough.  
  
Brian grinned and took photo after photo of Julia being enjoyed in no uncertain fashion by the football team, and Principal Blackwell being fucked to several screaming orgasms Once he figured he had enough for all the blackmail material he would ever need and more, he ducked back around the grandstand, suppressed his power, and beckoned to Taylor.  
  
Blackwell looked up at the exclamation. “Principal Blackwell! Julia!”  
  
Groggily, gasping at the sensation of yet another orgasm building within her, she looked over. There stood Taylor Hebert, looking utterly shocked. Holding a camera.  
  
And with that, she came fully back to herself, just as the senior behind her came inside her clinging pussy. Even as the orgasm blasted through her, she had time for one final thought.  
  
_Fuck._  
  


<><>

  
Brian looked up as the door to Taylor's bedroom opened. She slipped inside, carrying a covered tray, and closed it behind her. He suppressed his power as the door closed, and sat up.  
  
“Hi,” she murmured.  
  
“Hi,” he replied with a grin. She came to sit beside him; they kissed, gently at first, then more firmly.  
  
“So, how did it go with Blackwell?” he asked softly.  
  
“Well, after she got dressed and back to her office,” Taylor related, her eyes alight with amusement, “she promised me fervently that she would have me transferred to Arcadia immediately if not sooner, just so long as I didn't let any photos that I took become public,”  
  
He let his teeth show. “She didn't mention any photos that I might have taken?”  
  
“Nope.” She let her hand trail over his shirtless chest. “Not at all.”  
  
“And she didn't mention Julia?”  
  
Taylor tried to look innocent, and signally failed. “Nope.”  
  
“Well, I'm gonna have to break in somewhere to get those photos printed out,” he mused. “What do you think? Letter, or should we go with tabloid, just to be sure?”  
  
“Oh, definitely tabloid,” Taylor decided. “Julia was in it just as much when Madison was around. And Blackwell let that shit go on for eighteen months.”  
  
“Tabloid it is,” he agreed. "Appropriately enough." He took the tray from her and placed it on her bedside table. Then he removed her glasses. She kissed him then, and only stopped when he lifted her T-shirt over her head.  
  
“Mm,” he murmured. “No bra. I like it.”  
  
“Ngh, I like it too,” she grunted, as he began to play with her breasts. His lips closed over her nipple, causing her to arch her back.  
  
They both stood at the same time, pushing their jeans down and off; identically naked, they dropped back on to the bed, hands groping bodies, lips finding each other and meshing together. His thigh rubbed between hers, smearing a trail of her natural lubrication over his skin. She panted with desire as he nibbled at her neck, and grasped at his thick erection.  
  
“Oh god, you're really hard.”  
  
He didn't bother answering; there was a condom still in its wrapper on her bedside table, beside the tray. When he handed it to her, she tore it open. Slowly, sensually, driving him insane with the sensations, she put it on him with her mouth. On the verge of either cumming or losing control of his power, he watched her roll it the rest of the way with her hands.  
  
“I want you so badly,” he groaned, rubbing at her clit; she arched and jerked with the pleasure that he gave her.  
  
“Fuck yes,” she grunted; climbing off the bed, she bent over it. “Do me from behind.”  
  
Not about to argue, he got off the bed and stood behind her. Her thighs were invitingly open, and her labia were swollen and shiny with her arousal. Slowly, carefully, he guided his rubber-clad erection into place. She groaned as he penetrated her, sliding to his full length between her thighs.  
  
“Oh god, oh god, oh god,” she moaned as he began to thrust into her, holding her hips tightly. His thickness stretched her tight young pussy in ways that blew her mind, and she looked over her shoulder at him with pure lust in her eyes.  
  
“Fuck me,” she ordered him.  
  
And he did.


End file.
